


No Lani

by EzraANeemsay



Category: Blake Shelton (Musician), Shefani, The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: F/M, President AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 95,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraANeemsay/pseuds/EzraANeemsay
Summary: 47 had a smile to remember. It was charismatic, magnetic, electric, lovable. It was a smile that tore his face into two. That of a man who wanted to be a good person, and a man who did not want to miss out on a life he had no business living. 47 smiled. It's scary what a smile can hide.





	1. Chapter 1

“It’s smart. Really. 42 put a movie theater down here. 44 an indoor basketball court.” 

“47 doesn’t hoop.” 

“No. But he does know how to handle a pool cue.” 

Dorian didn’t jump at the sound of 47’s voice. He was trained not to be startled so easily. He was also trained to know where his chief was by hearing alone, whether his eyes did or not. It was a reflex, by now ingrained in every instinct in his body to know 47’s footsteps from that of someone else’s.   

Dorian and Hale, the other agent that he split shifts with, both turned around to address the man. 

“Mr. President.” Dorian nodded. “Of course your pool game isn’t as good as mine, Sir.” 

President Shelton chuckled, clapping both men on the shoulder as he passed. 

“One day, Dorian. I’m gonna shut that smart mouth of yours up.” 

“Good luck with that, Sir.” He replied, grinning from ear to ear. The middle finger thrusted up into the air was entirely expected but never not surprising. 47 was the only president that truly didn’t care for formalities and allowed everyone serving under his detail and beyond the leeway to interact with the man as if he was just another guy off the street. 

“You want to get a drink when we’re off?” Hale asked him. 

“Sure. Let me tell Ally before she has a fit.” 

Hale smirked. The two went back to surveilling the room, eyes on the President when he wanted them to be, and off when he didn’t. The man had hosted a boy’s night for some of his closest friends and confidants. The get together had dwindled down around midnight, his guests leaving one by one as their cars were pulled around to to the garage for them. It was another hour that passed when finally, the night looked like it was truly coming to an end, the President’s best friend the only guest left. 

“One more time! One more time, come on, B. We’ll place bets.” Mr. Bradley hounded the President, grabbing onto his dress shirt as the leader of the free world laughed and clutched his best friend to him, somewhat drunkenly. 

“No, no, no, no, no. I gotta get to bed. Josie will have my ass if I stay down here any longer. Another time.” 

Mr. Bradley sighed and tried to get him to change his mind but the boss wasn’t budging. “Brad, I can’t. I have a country to run in the morning. Come on, I’ll call you a car. Go home before Stephanie kicks your ass too.” 

Both men leaned on each other for support as they set their pool sticks down and made their way back upstairs. “Hale, get me a glass of water will ya?” The President asked him. 

“Right away, Sir.” 

Hale went back downstairs to fetch the glass and Dorian followed the two men up to the main floor. He made sure another agent got Mr. Bradley to the car safely as he focused on President Shelton’s journey back to the East Wing. 

“You’re a good man, Dorian.” 47 told him as he walked him down the various residence hallways. 

“Thank you, Mr. President. Not as good as you though.” 

He slung an arm around Dorian, and the younger man thought it was more for walking support than anything else. “Good answer. Hey, I want to stop by the kids’ rooms before I go to sleep.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

It was a common ritual for the President to visit his children in slumber before he too retired for the night. They stopped by Jackson’s bedroom first, Dorian nodding at the agent that was standing guard outside of it. 

“Mr. President.” The guard bowed his head. 

President Shelton nodded back and opened the door. The ten year old was sleeping half off his bed, the covers laying at his feet as his body was hanging off the bed at an awkward angle. He watched his President walk in quietly and move his son back to the middle of the mattress, pulling the covers over his body again. He stroked the boy’s golden-brown, unruly, curly hair and walked back out. Theodore's room was right across from Jackson’s and Dorian nodded at the other agent that was standing outside of his younger son’s door.

Teddy was tucked underneath his space blanket per usual, sniffling softly in his slumber. President Shelton sat on the edge of the bed and sighed, leaning down the next second to plant a soft kiss on the eight year old’s temple. Unlike his brother, he had red and brown curls that fell into his eyes whether he was awake or dead to the world. His boss pushed them back from his forehead. It was several minutes before President Shelton exited the room. 

“All good, Sir?” Dorian asked. 

He nodded. “All good.”

They walked the rest of the way to the President’s private chambers. Hale was standing there with a cold glass of water. Dorian smiled when he saw that there was no lemon in the drink--since President Shelton had to have it prepared that way per the First Lady’s request. As Dorian stopped dutifully outside of the door, 47 opened it and took the offered glass, bidding him and all of the other agents assigned to the First Lady’s detail a good night. 

“You as well, Mr. President.” They responded at the same time. 

Dorian turned his back to the wall beside the door and canted his head to the ceiling. He looked down at his watch only once that night, and it was five minutes before another agent was supposed to come and relieve his position. He always seemed to know when he was about to be able to go. 

That drink with Hale was only fifteen minutes away. 

 

=

 

His alarm clock went off at six in the morning, sharp, everyday except for the weekends. Blake Tollison Shelton hated mornings, even more so since he got elected for a second term. You would think that four years of practice--experience--would have prepared him for another four, but it never got any easier waking up before the Sun did. 

Blake rolled over from turning the alarm off and looked at his wife beside him. She had her mouth closed, soft breaths were coming from her nose and her chest rose softly up and down as if it was on some kind of timer. Her brown hair was the color of warm mocha. When her eyes are open at approximately seven on the dot, they’re a glazed cinnamon color with swirls of honey, the same as Jackson’s. Everything about her was perfect. Even the freckles that littered her nose and cheeks were a certain distance and exact size from the next. Perfect. It used to alarm him. He guessed it still did judging by the way his gut contracted and his heart felt heavy everytime he looked at her. 

Blake rolled back over and saw the clock now read 6:06. He exhaled and sat up, the covers falling away from his bare chest. He stretched and grabbed a shirt from the side table, pulling it over his head. He stood up and crossed the room to the bathroom. The routine was precise and mundane: brush teeth, wash face, wet hair, contemplate a trim, and lastly, put his eye contacts in. From there, he would change into shorts and running shoes and greet his detail outside by the door. This morning, it was Frank and Tom, already dressed in their running uniforms. He greeted them both. 

“Ready?”

“Yes, Sir.” They said in unison. 

Blake ran every morning except for Wednesdays and Fridays. Running always made him miss breakfast with the kids, so he was limited--by Josie--to only five days a week. 

As the men walked outside from the back entrance, Blake leaned down to check his laces. 

“Mr. President, I’m to inform you by your chief of staff that you have a video call this morning before the debriefing. Which means--” 

“Our run is cut short for the day.” He stood up and checked his watch. “Let’s get to it then.” 

“Ready when you are.” Tom told him. 

“Sure you guys can keep up?” He asked. 

They laughed and as Blake set off running, his men followed behind him. His running route consisted of the White House gardens mostly. They would do several laps around the perimeter and he would stop only to take a drink that Frank had already prepared and held for him conveniently. Blake had stopped by the rose bushes and was wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt when another agent caught up to them. 

“Mr. President. Mr. Young needs you to return back to the House. I’m afraid it’s an urgent matter.” 

Blake was still breathing heavily. He rolled his eyes at the agent’s news. “Tell Charlie, I’m running.” 

“I mentioned it, Sir. He said it was important.” 

“Then, tell him again.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Blake shook his head and planted his hands on his hips. He was staring up at the sun, eyes squinting as it burned. 

“Mr. President. We have fifteen minutes to get back.” Frank informed him. 

He sighed, realizing how much of his life was invaded by other people’s voices. 

Blake handed his water bottle to Tom this time and set off down the trails again without another word. 

 

=

 

“Can I tie it?” 

Blake was looking at his collection of bow ties when Jackson wrapped his arms around his stomach from the back and poked his head out from the side. Their eyes locked briefly, and Blake smiled at his oldest. 

“This one is harder than the others. You sure?”

Jack nodded. 

“Ok. Which one? You pick.” 

“No! Let me pick. Jackson always picks.” Teddy whined from the bed, which he was jumping on. If Josie was there and not already busy with getting ready for the dinner, she would have snatched the boy up by his ear and scolded him. Blake didn’t much care if he jumped or not. Kids were meant to do kid things. 

Blake gave Jackson a look that said let your brother choose and the older boy sighed. “You can pick Teddy.” 

The eight year old jumped off the bed and bounced his way over to his brother and father. Blake picked him up so that he could see and reach the neckties easier. Teddy bit his lip in concentration, something that he got from his mother, and scanned all the different colors and designs. “I like that one.” He pointed to the blue bowtie with the small white dots scattered on it. 

Jackson made a face and Blake found it adorable. 

“That one it is.” He grabbed it and set Teddy down. Blake sat in front of the mirror on the floor and crossed his legs, something that his sons mimicked. 

“Alright, you remember how I showed you?” He asked Jack. 

Jackson nodded and flipped his father’s collar up, taking the silk from his hands and wrapping it around Blake’s neck. Teddy watched in awe as his big brother looped and pulled the fabric until it eventually resembled a bow. Unlike Theodore and Josie, Jackson concentrated just like his dad, with his eyes locked and his lips pursed. 

When he was finished, Blake looked at himself in the mirror and was surprised at how good of a job he did. “Not bad.” 

“When can I start wearing ties?” He asked. 

“You don’t want to anytime soon. When you start wearing them, you’ll have to for the rest of your life.” 

Both of his kids made a disgusted face at that. 

“Exactly.” 

Teddy climbed into his lap and set his head on his father’s shoulder, sighing. “Daddy, why can’t we go to the dinner with you?” 

Jackson fidgeted, like he was yearning to be in his father’s arms too. Blake leaned back onto the floor and gestured for Jack to join them. His oldest laid on the left side of his chest just as Teddy laid on the right, and Blake ran a hand through both of their hair. His suit was probably getting wrinkled but he didn’t care.  

“You can come to the next one. Just as long as your mom says yes to it.” 

They both sighed. 

Jackson looked up at him, “When are we going to play football out in the yard?” 

Blake honestly didn’t know when he would have time but he stuck to his usual answer and hoped it didn’t backfire in his face. 

“You play catch all the time with Uncle Tom and Frank.” 

“It’s not the same. You throw deep ones.” 

Blake chuckled, imagining his detail going soft to as not warrant any trouble or injuries as they played with his boys. “I’ll play again soon, ok? Dad has a lot on his plate right now.” 

Teddy looked up at him now. “Can you tell us a story from when you were younger?” 

Blake unwrapped his left arm from around Jackson to look at his watch. He needed to be heading down to the ballroom in a couple of minutes. He was surprised that Josie wasn’t already up there to get him. 

“I got time for one. Arizona or Oklahoma?” 

“Arizona.” They said at the same time before Jack elaborated, “Those are the funniest ones.” 

“Alright.” 

He recounted the time when him and his brother Richie snuck out of the house and went to a John Berry concert, underage and completely plastered off their asses. Of course he left that part out and sensored some of the more inappropriate bits as he told the story, but his boys laughed with the kind of innocence that only a child possessed and Blake swore it was the only sound in the world that could make him feel like he was walking on clouds and everything below him on Earth was unimportant. 

He was just getting to the part where Richie had punched some guy in the face because he was trash talking the drummer when Josie walked in, a vision in white. She stared at the mess of limbs on the floor with an exasperated expression that she didn’t really mean. 

“There you guys are. Valerie is waiting to put you both to bed. Come on, say goodnight to your dad.” 

Their kids groaned but knew better than to argue with their mother. They mumbled their ‘I love yous’ and he kissed both of them on the head as he urged them to get up. They walked over to Josie and followed her outside. 

“Sweet dreams, guys,” he called to them. 

He heard their little voices call back to him down the hall, making him smile. 

“Sir, if you’re ready.” His chief of staff popped his head around the corner, as if he was standing there, waiting the whole time. 

“Charlie, when am I ever ready for one of these things?” 

Charlie grinned and ushered him outside of the bedroom.. “I have notes but I have a feeling that you won’t read them.” 

“What gave it away?” He asked, teasing. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe the last four years, Sir.” Charlie retorted.

“When does the Prime Minister show up?” Blake asked as he greeted Frank and Tom at the end of the foyer. “Tom, I thought you only worked the day shift.” 

“A little birdy told me you would prefer me back at night, Sir.” 

Some little birdy being Andrea. She had a big mouth but Blake was grateful. It meant he had his best detail when he wanted it the most. 

“The Prime Minister is scheduled to arrive around eight thirty. Which gives you ten minutes to let me tell you my notes.” Charlie answered, not missing a beat. 

The four men fell in sync with each other as they walked down the halls of the White House. 

Blake extended a hand to Tom. “Glad to have you back. And that’s fine, Charlie. Hey, Frank, you think you can play catch with Jack tomorrow morning?” 

Tom shook his hand, “Thank you, Mr. President.”

“Your wife insisted that the Prime Minister sit at your table, which I strongly advise against but it’s your call, Sir.” Charlie stated. 

“I have a family breakfast tomorrow morning, Sir. But I can cancel.” Frank said. 

“Whatever Josie wants, give to her. And no need to cancel. Enjoy your family time, Frank.” 

“If you insist, Sir.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Good evening, Mr. President.” The aid to the ballroom greeted. 

“Evening, Samuel. How’s the wife and kids. Jimmy had that basketball tournament, right? How’d he do?” 

His aid seemed surprised that he remembered. “They’re great, Sir. And yes. Jimmy and his team won. Thank you.”

“Congratulations,” he patted the man on his arm. “I’ll see you in there, Sam.” 

Mr. President. They were the most popular words around the House, especially for any formal event and Blake loathed it with a passion. He felt like he was being pulled in every direction and only stopped once he did the greeting tradition. He would stand at the entrance doors with the First Lady by his side and greet and shake hands with everyone that attended the dinner. It was tiresome standing there for forty minutes, smiling until his face hurt, hand cramping from being gripped too hard and stuck in the same position because it was easier on his arm and shoulder than having to keep moving it up and down as the line grew shorter with every passing guest.

“I want a real smile, Mr. President.” 

Blake stopped zoning out to see Bradley coming up to him, next in line for a greeting with the First Couple. 

“Brad, get me out of here, please, I’m begging you.” 

Josie overheard their joke and slightly nudged his arm, signalling for them to keep it moving. Bradley leaned in as they shook hands. “I’ll see you at the table. Or bar. Whichever’s closer.” 

He nodded and let go of his best friend so that he could hug and kiss Josie. Brad’s longtime girlfriend was behind him, dressed in an elegant silver dress that caught the attention of many, including Blake. 

“Stephanie, you’re a dream in that dress.” He kissed the back of her hand tenderly. 

“Thank you, Mr. President. You clean up nice yourself. Not as good as your wife though.” 

“I knew she was the eye candy in the relationship when I met her.” 

Josie slapped his arm reproachfully, but she was grinning and blushing in that way she did. 

“Eye candy with a Yale law degree. Hi, Stephanie, you look gorgeous, honey.”

The Prime Minister was right after their friends and Blake greeted him and his wife with the strongest handshake and most charming smile that he could manage. 

Once they passed, Blake could let out a breath and finish the greetings feeling much more relaxed then when he started. This particular dinner wasn’t even for the Prime Minister but they had business to attend to when it was over and he knew it would be rude to not invite the man when he was staying three whole days in America before departing for England on Friday. The dinner was mainly for honoring the six air force pilots in the KWI Unit that recently carried out and finished a mission in East Sudan that was a matter of national security. The honored guests were seen last, and Blake took extra care in welcoming them to the White House, each one thanking him for his hospitality and the invitation to come in the first place. 

One pilot in particular, Wyatt Howlett, was decorated in the most medals, something that caught his eye. He was a tall guy, almost as tall as him, with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes that were the exact shade as his own. But it wasn’t that which stopped the President in his two thousand dollar suede shoes. It was the woman on his arm. His wife, which he helpfully introduced to him and Josie. The woman, in all her efforts to avoid eye contact with him, was trying to appear small, inconsequential next to the decorated pilot. But custom was that she shake hands with the Leader of the Free World and the First Lady next to him. 

She latched onto Josie’s soft hands first, rule number one broken, but Blake remembered how much she didn’t like to follow rules when she used to grab for his hands before anyone else's. 

And he remembered when he met her, it was so clear that she was the only one meant for him. They both knew it, right away. When her eyes finally landed on his, he tried to remember what they had in the beginning. 

“Stella.” He breathed, still shocked. He reverted back to her nickname, the way he used to greet her. 

He saw how her chest leaped, how her breath, which was once so steady and controlled, began to falter and pick up speed all at the same time. 

“Gwen, honey. Her name is Gwen.” Josie said into his ear. 

Blake snapped out of his reverie and smiled. It was forced. “Of course. I’m sorry. It’s a pleasure to have you both here tonight. The White House is honored. And Lieutenant Howlett, thank you for your service.” He said the perfunctory statement and nodded them along like he had done for the rest of the guests. Hearing Mr. Howlett's clear and strong thank you, echoing Blake’s sentiment about service back to the President for having served himself. Gwen’s quiet murmur was barely audible. 

“You ok?” 

He snapped his attention away from her and back to his wife. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She still looked sceptical. “Hey, did I tell you that you look absolutely stunning in that dress?” 

Josie grinned. “Several times but I never tire of hearing it.” 

He chuckled and kissed her cheek, hating to get lipstick on his mouth. 

“Let’s start this dinner off together.” He told her. 

Josie was surprised and throughout the entire dinner, he could tell she was confused, trying to figure out what was making him so nice. 

Blake kept his eyes firmly away from Gwen. He performed all of his duties perfectly, talked with all the important people, danced with all the right people, and drank with all the vital people in his life. Gwen Stefani--Howlett--was not one of those people. 

Not anymore.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

He cheated. 

He stole a glance. Just one. Just as she was excusing herself to go to the little girl’s room. Blake’s eyes followed her until she disappeared up the stairs where the restrooms were located. He turned around in his chair and set his glass down, leaning over to whisper in Charlie’s ear, eyes firmly planted on where Josie was dancing with the Prime Minister. 

“Breaking the seal.” He told Charlie. 

“Lightweight,” he whispered back. 

Blake smirked and left the table, knowing that Tom and Frank were right behind him. 

His legs were shockingly steady as they carried him across the floor and up a whole flight of stairs. He did not envy the women that had to make this trek in heels. 

Once he rounded the corner to the girl’s bathroom, he saluted the guard that was standing in front of the door.

“The men’s restroom is just further down, Mr. President.”

“I know. I need to know how many women are currently using the room right now.” 

He expected surprise but the guard just blinked and said, “Three so far, Sir.” 

Blake nodded and leant against the adjacent wall. It took only a minute for one of the women to walk out, the second, another two. Neither noticed the Leader of the Free World just hanging around outside like a creep. 

Blake moved quickly to enter the restroom but Tom stopped him. 

“Sir, we need to search the premises.” 

Like that wouldn’t freak her out, Blake thought. But he nodded, knowing that it was protocol.

He was the last to enter as his guys immediately checked the stalls and perimeter of the bathroom. Gwen had been applying more red lipstick in the mirror when they barged in. She was now looking mildly concerned at the two agents until she saw him. Her expression changed to one of frustration. He couldn’t blame her. 

“All clear, Sir.” 

“Thank you. Give us a minute, please.” 

Tom was the one to betray his feelings on the matter but he didn’t dare protest and Blake trusted them to keep the bathroom clear of anymore guests while they were in here. 

Once the door closed back again, Gwen spoke. “They always do what you tell them?” 

He didn’t know what hearing her voice clearly would do to him after thirteen years but he didn’t expect to feel like a bomb that had just been slowly diffused.

“Not all the time. They’re more stubborn than you think.”

She cracked a tiny smile at that.    

She was no Josie. 

He guessed that was the point. Her eyes were a different shade of brown. Her eyelashes were longer and sparse, auburn, a soft place to land. He could feel his curls coming undone with the humidity in the bathroom, his hair gel melting away with every second he subjected himself to this. He focused back on Gwen once more. Just like he predicted. 

Completely unblemished.

“You’re married.” He said to no person in particular. He just needed to let it roll off his tongue. 

“With two kids. A girl and a boy. Twelve and nine.” She replied.  

“My boys are ten and eight.” 

“I know. They’re beautiful. I saw them on that photo spread your family did last Christmas.” 

It had been Josie’s idea. The American people ate it up. 

He wasn’t about to say thank you, it was an empty compliment. A courtesy at best. He could tell it in her eyes, which had always been the color of warm sunshine swirled inside a dark umber. Even her hair was the same, pulled up now into an elaborate ponytail; the strands were platinum blonde, softer than anything he had felt in this world besides his own children’s hair. Thirteen years and all it did was manage to make her look younger. 

“Stella.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

He ran a hand down his face. “Gwen--”

“I have to get back to my husband.” 

The sting was imminent. “Would you just give me one minute?” 

“To do what?” 

“I don’t know. To look at you, to take you in--”

She gathered her clutch from the sink and started walking past him. In another decade, he would have grabbed her arm and stopped her. But this was thirteen years later, and he was the President of the United States. So he let her go. 

It wouldn’t be the first time. 

 

=

 

“I thought the quinoa was a little off tonight. I think I might have a talk with Michael about it in the morning. You’ll be able to eat with us finally. I ordered the kitchen to prepare that oatmeal that you like.” 

Blake let her ramble as they walked into their suite. Josie was taking her heels off, disappearing into the closet. He ripped his tie from his collar and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt, laying down on his side of the bed--the left.

“Blake, how many times have I told you about shoes on the comforter. And why is it so messed up? Did you let Teddy jump on it while I was busy getting ready?” 

He sighed and put an arm over his head, shielding his eyes from the light. The next thing he felt out of nowhere was his wife untying his shoes, taking them off one by one. Then, his socks. 

“You have to help me enforce the rules. You can’t make me look like the bad guy because I tell them one thing and you let them turn around and do it without any consequences.”

“He’s eight, Jo. Who the hell cares if he jumps on the bed? It’s fun for him. Heaven knows there’s not much here to entertain them. They’re getting older and the White House isn’t exactly kid friendly.” 

“The point I’m trying to make is that we need to be a team.” 

He ran a hand down his face. Blake felt the bed dip and Josie’s hand in his hair. He flinched away from her touch, and he knew the action would hurt her feelings. 

“Blake--”

He got out of bed and grabbed his phone. 

“Where are you going?” 

“To check on the boys.” 

Blake came face to face with his security detail outside. They nodded at him and followed silently as Blake walked down to his sons’ rooms. 

Jackson was shockingly not hanging half off his bed this time. Blake kissed the boy goodnight and ventured into Teddy’s bedroom. This time, he laid down in the bed with his youngest and curled the boy into his arms. Theodore went quietly, limbs pliant and soft and warm. It was only fifteen minutes when Frank poked his head into the room and saw the President sleeping soundly. He closed the door and him and Tom spent the night with the other two guards.

Their knowing glances between each of them were done so quietly and discreetly. They wouldn’t even talk about it in the morning. 

 

=

 

“Teddy wipe your mouth.” Josie told their youngest as syrup dripped down his chin. The boy took his napkin and wiped his face down, planting it on his brother’s half finished plate afterwards. Jackson exclaimed and pushed Teddy in his chair which Teddy responded by hitting him back. 

“Cut it out.” Blake bellowed. 

The boys stopped and went back to their respective place mats. 

“Teddy, elbows.” Josie reprimanded. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” 

“Sir, would you like more coffee?” One of the staff members asked him. 

Blake shook his head and closed the Sudan report. “No, but I’ll take some to go for the Oval.” He stood up and Josie grabbed his arm. 

“You’re not staying a little longer?” 

“I have a lot of work to get done. I’ll see you later on tonight. What’s your schedule?” 

“I’m taking the boys to the museum and then I have a meeting with that dress designer I told you about. You think you can make it to dinner tonight?” 

Blake bent down and kissed her lips chastely. “I’ll see what I can do.” He stood back up and gestured for Andrea to grab his things. “Be good for Mom at the museum today or no screens for a week.” 

The boys booed him but stood on their chairs, much to their mother’s dismay, and hugged Blake within an inch of his life as he said his goodbyes for the day. 

In the hallway, Andrea gave him his cup of coffee and a folder for the morning briefing. 

“Andrea, if I asked you a kind of personal question, you wouldn’t accuse me of sexual harassment would you?”

“No promises, Sir.” 

“Well...you’ve been married for a long time. When did you stop having sex with your husband?” 

Nothing caught his private secretary off guard so he was always relieved when she was straightforward with him immediately after he confided in her. Although, she kept her voice down as they passed many government workers on their way to the West Wing. Even though she didn’t have to, because his detail was so tight whenever he travelled through the day or when he was in a populated area. 

“Well, I’ve only been married for six years. I’m afraid you take the cake in the marriage department, Sir. But...we hit a rough patch right after I got this job but that had to do with work related stress. If you and the First Lady are spending a lot of time apart then that could be a factor as well.” Something in her tone told him that she knew the couple was but Blake could hardly help that. 

“Suggestions?” 

Her eyebrows shot up. “For getting laid? I don’t know, Sir. Have the gardener pick her some flowers, buy her a new pair of earrings. Show her how much you want to see her more during the day.” 

The problem was that he had no desire to worry about getting a bouquet together or searching for this month’s jewelry because he always had one of the assistants pick for him. And he couldn’t lessen his time at the office because they were currently in a war that Blake had to be updated and kept in the loop about 24/7. 

Their little discussion came to an end as they rounded the corner to his office. Andrea went to her desk right outside of it but not before handing the President his notes. “Good luck with what we talked about, Sir.” 

“Thank you, Andrea.” He said genially as he stepped foot into the people’s office. 

Charlie was already waiting for him inside, with several other Government employees. 

“Morning everyone. McCain, how are those analytics coming?” 

“Morning, Sir. Just a few minor hiccups...” 

Blake sat down in his chair and set his feet down on the desk, crossing his hands over his stomach. He started off staring at the room as McCain gave his analytics report but soon drifted his eyes to the window. Josie had asked for sheer curtains to be placed in the Oval, thick enough that people wouldn’t be able to see in clearly but thick enough that he could look out. His chair swiveled slightly so that he wasn’t straining his neck, and the drone of each person talking in the room soon became fuzzy in his mind. It was common enough behavior that no one stopped or asked him if he was alright, or worse, listening. 

He knew his thoughts would drift back to her. He had managed to avoid it by keeping busy with the boys and work but sitting there now, he couldn’t let his thoughts  _ not  _ drift to her. 

It wasn’t even the cliche kind of missing that he was doing, where he missed the way she looked, or the way her body felt underneath his, or how she was the only woman that called him out on his bullshit. No. He was missing something more desperate. Like how she used to count his stitches when he came home every weekend, kissing the entirety of his body for everyone she totaled. Or when she convinced him to get a tattoo of the day they met, numbers in the same font that her manuscript was written in when he picked it up off the floor and returned it back to her. Or how she planned a long overdue vacation for them to go back to the states so that he could meet her family and Blake begged his captain to send him on another payload. He left without telling her and they broke up over the phone six hours later. She made him sick with grief. Even now, after all these years, seeing her had messed him up to the point that he was distant and despondent. He had hated feeling like that when they were together--it was a horrible feeling now that they were apart. 

They had been thirteen years ago. And thirteen years gone and went and now she was married to a pilot with two kids and he was the President of the United States. Life could be your best friend or a total bitch. Depended on how you looked at it.

“Mr. President?” 

He turned his chair around to face his team. 

“Are you ok, Sir?” 

Every person in the room was moving their heads to get a better look at the man. He didn’t know what they were referring to or why there were so curious about his person until he felt a drop of something on his hand. He looked down and saw red. Another drop trickled down from his nose and over his lips. He licked them and tasted copper. 

“Sir, we can rejoin later in the day if you’re not feeling alright. Are you?” One of the aid’s asked him.  

Blake clutched his nose and stood up.

“He’s fine. This happens all the time.” Charlie came to stand by his side, walking him to the door and telling him to tilt his head back. “We’ll reschedule this meeting for later in the day. Don’t make any plans you can’t cancel.”

Andrea stood up right away when the door opened, her expression changing to one of worry when she saw the President. 

“I’ll get the doctor.” She said.  

“No,” Blake raised a hand. “I’m fine. Find my wife. Tom’s intercom.”  

Andrea nodded and went to find Josie’s whereabouts right away. 

He walked down the hall enclosed by his detail, and he was grateful that the rest of the staff walking by weren’t getting a full show. 

“Sir, she’s in the Blue Room.” Tom told him, clutching his ear piece with his left hand. 

“What happened to the museum?” He pondered out loud but knew not to expect anyone there to know the answer.

They made their way to the Blue Room and Blake sent everyone away save for his agents. Charlie protested but Blake didn’t want to hear it. 

“I’m fine. Go run my White House staff. That’s how you can help me.” He said as he opened the door and quietly entered the room.

His wife was sitting on the couch with several other women and dresses surrounding her. They were chatting over tea and cookies and Josie was smiling brilliantly, a soft pink dress that was more blush than anything else, sitting on her lap. She was running her fingers through the sequence, fixated on the material.  

“This feels different.” She commented. 

“I didn’t make that one actually. A good friend of mine has a dress shop down in Hawaii, where she lives. She gave that to me as one of her scratches and told me that I could use the design to make another version of the dress.” 

“It’s beautiful. It’s a scratch?” His wife said, disbelieving. 

The designer nodded. 

“The woman that made it, what’s her name?” 

“Stellina professionally, or at least that’s what all the dresses say on the inner stitching, but for those who actually know her call her by her real name. She’s a very private person and doesn’t want direct recognition for her art.” 

“Sounds like my kind of designer. She lives in Hawaii?” 

“Oahu, just a little ways away from Honolulu.” 

“When can we get her a flight out here? I want you both working on my wardrobe for the upcoming Winter season. Everything here is absolutely stunning.” 

Blake couldn’t understand dress talk anymore than he understood how Golf was a sport. He rapped his knuckles on the door, which got the attention of the entire room. Most of the women were in awe to see the President standing in the same space as them but the others, including his wife, looked equal parts irritated at the intrusion and equal parts worried about his bloody nose. 

Josie stood up right away. “Honey, are you okay?” She came dutifully by his side and Blake allowed her touch to soothe him. He nodded as best as he could and she rubbed his back as she addressed the ladies. 

“I’ll be right back. Please ask for anything that you need or want in my absence. Macie, anything.” She said pointedly to the young aid. Macie nodded. 

“Does it hurt this time?” She asked him while they walked. 

Thankfully, the Blue Room was near the East Wing and they made it to their bedroom relatively quickly. 

“No.” 

She led him to the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the bath. She grabbed a towel and wet it in the sink, coming to sit on his lap as she gently pried his hand away and replaced it with the warm cloth. She ran a palliative hand through his greying curls and Blake’s eyes fell close. His breath evened out. 

Gwen used to lay him down on the bed, stick two lotion scented tissues up his nostrils, and give him the best message of his life as they waited for the blood to subside. Blake usually fell asleep during that time. Afterwards, while he was pliant and his limbs were sated, just as she gently roused him from slumber, Gwen would wipe her lotion stained hands on the sheet, climb up on top of his lap, unbutton his pants, and fuck him back to sleep. 

“What happened?” 

Blake would have jumped if he wasn’t so skilled at concealing his thoughts. He sighed, knowing playing dumb wouldn’t get him off of the hook. 

“Last time you had a bloody nose was when Teddy was six and broke his toe on the dining room table. You said it was because of her. That you guys were having an argument and she wasn’t paying attention to where she was going and she broke her toe the same way.” 

Blake closed his eyes at the memory. She had found text messages in his phone between him and another pilot that could’ve been borderline flirting. Nothing happened, and Blake wasn’t the type to cheat but Gwen was furious and insecure and they were younger and less equipped to deal with petty arguments without them turning into full blown fights that lasted weeks. 

He used to get these bloody noses everyday after the last IED caught a fraction of his head. They were a side effect of the trauma he endured but they stopped coming so often a little while after he and Gwen split up. Now, through the years, every time something happened that was remotely similar to the time he spent with Gwen, or something caught his eye that reminded him of her, he had a nosebleed. It was after a particular nasty one and Josie’s constant questions about them that he finally told her they were related to a past girlfriend. 

He never told Josie her name or anything private about them other than a couple of stories, which were always linked back to the nosebleeds. He knew his wife acknowledged the incredible hold Gwen had over him, despite not knowing what she looked like or who she even was. It was something they both agreed, nonverbally, to never speak of unless times like this showed up unexpectedly.

He thinks the mention of Hawaii, his old station grounds, would have been the cause of a nosebleed if it wasn’t for the sudden appearance of Gwen in his life again. To think that Josie and Gwen have met was a fact that he still hadn’t fully wrapped around his head.   

“Blake--” 

“It was nothing. A woman had the same necklace that I’d given her for our one year anniversary. That’s it.” It wasn’t a lie. He had noticed Pennelope wearing it two weeks ago. His nose hadn’t bled at the time. It was just a moment stuck in time before Blake became unstuck and got on with life per usual. The necklace was native to Hawaii, and exclusive to Ka’a’awa. He could pick it out of a crowd if he had to. He wondered if Gwen still had it somewhere with her.  

“That’s it? Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive. What happened to taking the boys to the museum?” He diverted. 

Josie’s focus completely shifted at the mention of their children. “Jackson had an accident out in the yard.” 

“What? What happened?” Blake asked, worriedly. 

“It was nothing, really. He was playing tag with Teddy and tripped over one of the rocks around the rose bushes. He fell and sprained his wrist but he’s alright.”

Blake pushed up from the bathtub ledge, causing Josie to stand with him. He pushed away to get to the sink and turned the faucet on. 

“I thought I told you to have an aid come inform me whenever something happened with the boys?” He ran the bloody cloth through with some cold water and ignored the way he could feel the room’s temperature change. 

Josie carefully made her way to his side. “You were busy and I handled it. He’s fine, barely shed a tear. I didn’t want to interrupt anything considering you always have something more important to be giving your time to.” 

He shut the water off forcefully and looked at her with a force that he had never truly felt before until that moment. 

“Nothing is more important to me than my kids.”

“Then act like it.” She half yelled. But as she continued talking, her voice grew louder. “Spend more time with them. Eat more than two meals with them a week. You think just because your home is conveniently where you work that you don’t have to do more than the bare minimum--you’re wrong. I’m the only parent here doing both of my jobs and not once complaining about it!”

“I’m the President of the goddamn United States! You put up curtains and pick out drapes, and write about your next outfit choice for the State Ball. I run the country. You wanna pick a fight with me over who has more time to change diapers and wipe bloody noses?” 

Josie recoiled as if she had been moved physically by his words. “You want a pat on the back for doing your job? Fine. You my dear husband are the finest President this country has ever seen. Devoted, kind, willing to go above and beyond and do whatever it takes to save the world. You’re only flaw? You can’t be bothered to be any of those things for your family.”    

Blake sniffed, feeling nothing draining anymore. With one last wipe of his face and nose, he threw the towel into the laundry basket and turned to Josie. “You’re the mother of my children, but I’d think very hard about what you say to me the next time you’re feeling a little brave, Jo.” 

“Or what?” 

Her chest rose and fell with a quickness that he thought no one could replicate. This was the first time in their marriage that they were on opposite sides and he knew the only power she held over him was his children. Blake Tollison Shelton, the 47th President of the United States of America, never backed down or shied away from a challenge. But Blake Tollison Shelton, husband and father of two, would always step back, no matter what the costs. 

He spoke steadily, eyes serious but soft, “I don’t like coming home at the end of the day and seeing my kids different than when I left them. How would you feel if you left for work and something happened to Teddy or Jackson and you didn’t even know about it until you walked through the front door several hours later, having been completely in the dark the entire time. No matter what I’m doing, where I’m at, I want to know about them. I’m never too busy for my  _ family _ .” 

He lost interest in fighting, lost interest in comforting, lost interest in making himself out to be the good guy when he knew that much of what she said was true.

Blake walked out the bathroom without a backwards glance or last word to his wife. 

 

=

 

Blake rolled over onto his back, panting. Josie rose from the bed beside him, the sheets tucked around her naked body as she ventured to the bathroom. He didn’t know why she insisted on covering up when he wasn’t inside of her but she had always been like that. At first he found it adorable, quirky, but then he started to grow aggravated. It was like she was hiding a part of herself from him that he needed to see. She was always so put together, perfect, and if she ever let her hair down, it wasn’t for Blake. 

At least he was getting laid on a regular now. Four weeks was four weeks too long. 

There was a knock on the door and Blake sighed, sitting up and putting on his underwear just in time for Charlie to come walking in.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asked. 

“Other than the fact that it’s a Saturday and I should be at home with Marcus and an orphanage in East Sudan just got shot up, everything’s great and dandy, smelling like flowers actually.” 

“Charlie, shut up. What do you mean--an orphanage was targeted?”

“That’s what I said, Sir.” 

The bathroom door opened and Josie came out wearing a robe, hair wet and smelling like flowers herself. She had the soiled sheets in her hands, putting them into a wastebasket off to the side of the room. “Oh, hi, Charles. What are you doing here on a Saturday? Are you joining for brunch?” 

“No, ma’am. I’m just here to take your husband away for a few hours to handle a small matter.” 

Josie’s good mood changed drastically. “Charles, you know it’s the weekend. I get my husband on the weekends. He didn’t even go on his morning run, that’s how much he’s not sticking to routine today or tomorrow.” 

“With all due respect, Mrs. President--” 

“Charlie.” Blake warned. 

“There’s a war going on and I’m afraid the slaughter of innocent children doesn’t work around your schedule for family time.” 

Blake was grateful that the bedroom door opened in that moment because he could practically feel the animosity flowing off his wife and chief of staff like a tsunami tide. 

Teddy came running into the room, Jackson behind him. His youngest son went straight for the bed, immediately jumping on the rumpled covers. Blake winced. He walked to the bed and held his arms out, Teddy jumping into them excitedly. 

“Dad, can we play football today after we eat? You promised me soon.” Jackson asked him, staring up at his father with hopeful eyes--his mother’s eyes. 

Blake ran a hand through Jackson’s hair. “Dad’s gotta go in the office today for a little bit but--” Jackson started to groan. “But as soon as I’m done, I promise you I will play with you. Ok? Just give me a couple of hours.” 

“Can we come with you to work?” Teddy asked, little arms tightening around his neck. 

Blake was about to refuse when Jackson pulled on his arm and pleaded. “Please. We won’t do anything that will distract you. We promise, don’t we Teddy?” 

Theodore nodded, his own blue eyes pleading softly. They were the spitting image of Blake’s. Charlie cleared his throat and Blake glared at him. He could only imagine what Josie looked like. 

“How about this. You guys eat brunch with your mom, then I’ll have someone come and get you when I’m almost finished. You can play inside the Oval for a little bit while I get briefed. And if you’re good and you don’t disturb Andrea while she’s working, she’ll even give you some candy she’s got in her desk. Once I’m done--” His chief of staff made a displeasing noise but Blake continued. “We’ll play outside for a little and then Dad has to go back to work. Sound like a plan?” 

Both boys got more than they bargained for and as a result, nodded happily. 

“Ok, great. Now go let Valerie clean you guys up for brunch. Charlie give me a second to get ready.” 

Josie eyed the door as Charlie, clearly annoyed, opened it for the boys and led them down the hall to their nanny. Once it was shut, her eyes shifted to him. She wasn’t mad per say, probably more hurt than anything. 

“Jo--” 

She put a hand up. “Make it to dinner, Blake. Just make it to dinner.” 

She walked inside the closet and shut the door, leaving Blake standing in the middle of the room in nothing but a pair of boxers. He ran his hands down his tired face and sighed. His only thoughts being the orphanage and the twenty plus kids that were probably lying dead on the floor inside of it. 

 

=

 

“More tea, Sir?” 

Blake looked up from his speech. It was Pennelope, one of the White House aides. She was in charge of taking care of his needs at night when he decided to stay late in the office, which was becoming more and more of an occurrence as he found excuses to not eat dinner with his family. 

“Sure, why not.” 

She smiled softly at him and bent over the side of the desk to pour the hot liquid in his mug. Blake’s eyes couldn’t help but look at her, specifically her chest which was conveniently right in his face. She was wearing a white blouse with minimal cleavage, that damn necklace around her neck, dangling like a bad omen. 

“More?” She asked. 

Blake looked up to see her staring down at him, which meant she saw him staring at her breasts. He looked at the mug. It was filled to the brim. 

“No, that’s good. Thank you.” 

She smiled again and stood up. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

Blake shifted his pants discreetly and cleared his throat. “No, that’ll be all.” 

Pennelope pursed her lips but nodded, walking back to the exit. Blake noticed her yellow heels and paused, remembering a pair just like them. 

“Actually, Pennelope. Can you get Andrea for me, please?” 

“Sure thing, Mr. President.” 

He settled back into his chair, biting his lip. He put his feet up on the edge of his desk and leaned back. The door opened again within a minute. 

“Mr. President.” Andrea addressed him. 

She looked tired and Blake knew she probably wanted to go home and the older man felt bad for a second, knowing that about thirty two other employees had to stay later whenever he did too. 

“Andrea, I need you to find out some information for me about someone.” 

Her half dead look changed to something half intrigued. “Who?” 

“A woman named Gwen Renée Stefani.” 

She took out her notebook and pen and wrote the name down. “And what do you want to know about her?” 

He hesitated in answering. Truth be told, he didn’t want to know much other than where to find her. And that was the most depressing truth of all, because even if he did know that information, he wouldn’t ever be able to act on it. 

“I wanna know her residence. State only. Nothing specific like an address. And maybe her family. Husband, kids, parents mostly.” 

“Her place of work?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t care about that. Just those things.” 

“You want any pictures?” 

“No. And I don’t want you telling anyone about this either. If you can’t find the information yourself, you can enlist someone down in I.S. and no questions, please no questions.” 

“Can I ask one? Just this one and I won’t ask anymore.” He nodded. “Who is she?” 

“A woman.” 

Andrea rolled her eyes. “Who is she to you?” 

Blake rubbed his forehead. Realistically, he knew he didn’t have to give her an answer but Andrea, besides being one of the only government employees he actually trusted, had been a very close friend ever since she started this job in the third year of his first term. To deny her this one question would be like denying the entire development of their relationship. She never asked anything of him that the American people didn’t already. She deserved his honesty. 

“She’s a woman that was once a very big part of my life.” 

Andrea looked like she was going to push him for more but to his relief, she smiled gently at him. “I’ll get this information back to you in a couple of days. Unless, you need it sooner than then.” 

“Take your time.” 

“Is that all?” 

“Yeah. Pack up. I need to go to sleep before I fall over and you need to get home to that boyfriend.” 

“Husband.” 

He stood up and gathered his things, handing them to her as they walked to the door. He opened it for her and she immediately went to lock up and retrieve her own items. Andrea turned her desk lamp off and walked with him down the hall, Tom and Dorian in tow behind them. 

“Boyfriend.” Blake said, again, randomly. The halls were quiet and it was Blake’s favorite time of the day in the House. 

Andrea smacked her lips, “He’s my husband.” 

Blake wrapped an arm around the young woman’s shoulders, “Really? It seems like you’re more married to me than David.” 

Andrea laughed at that and wrapped her arm around his back. “I can’t argue with that logic, Boss.” 

Blake smiled. 

Neither could he.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

There were a lot of things that led to this moment. A shit storm of a list that Blake wished he had not scratched out or checked off as he went down this path. 

The first was thinking that he could see her again after thirteen years and believe that he could control himself afterwards. The second was thinking of Gwen while he was inside of Josie. The third thing, which was probably the one that really propelled him down this rabbit hole, was asking Andrea for information about an ex-girlfriend. The fourth was having a bottle of her father’s favorite scotch sent to his house. He had never met the man, and that was his fault, and for some weird reason he thought the anonymous gift would fill at least some of that void inside of him but it didn’t and he regretted the act almost immediately after it was already packaged and delivered. The fifth and final oversight was asking for a secure line so that he could call her at her home. 

It was ten at night, and he had been finishing up some legislature that needed to be looked over in the morning when he finally decided to do it. It was late, he was tired, physically and mentally, and she was probably getting ready for bed. He had been agonizing over whether he should call or not for weeks, and knew that she would be upset that he did. Confused at first, then angry, then completely upset. He did not want to leave her upset again but he was selfish and too used to getting what he wanted.  

Blake leaned back into his chair and stared at the portrait of George Washington on the opposite wall in front of him as he listened to the dial tone. He heard static and then a pause before children’s laughter could be heard in the distance. 

“Howlett residence.” 

Her voice was something that he wished he could frame. So at least if he couldn’t hear it everyday, he’d at least know it was there, hanging somewhere for his eyes to look upon. Only he would know what it was and what it meant. 

“Gwen.” 

Her sharp intake of breath could be heard fairly easily, only because he was actively listening for it. 

“How--what are you doing?” 

“It’s a secure line.” He explained. 

“What are you doing, Blake. You can’t just--you can’t call me.” She hissed, on the verge of ending their conversation short. “This is crazy.” 

Blake was quick to say, “Don’t hang up. Just stay on the line for a couple more seconds. You don’t have to talk. I won’t even talk. Just let me hear you breathe. Please...Stella.” 

The use of his nickname for her stopped the protesting in her heart and she fell silent.  The abrupt quietness was deafening but it’s what he asked of her and Blake had to swallow it down like it was a bitter pill and say thank you afterwards. 

Gwen breathed like she was making art. It was one of the first things he noticed about her in that little cafe storefront in the beginning. A smile crept slowly onto his face as he simply sat there and listened for the soft inhales and exhales that came directly from her chest. It wasn’t the real thing. He wished he could have seen it in person, felt it in person, but it was the second best thing and he was grateful she was giving him it at all. 

“Don’t send stuff to my family.” She spoke quietly. 

Of course she would find out about that. “I didn’t mean--” 

“Don’t. My dad doesn’t like charity and to him, that was charity. He thought I sent it. I don’t have that type of money. It was thirty four  _ thousand  _ dollars, Blake.” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it.” He lied. 

Gwen sighed, “I’m watching a movie with my kids. You can’t call here like this. Lani could have easily answered or Wyatt. Oh my God, Wyatt. What would you have done if he picked up?” 

“Hang up,” he told her truthfully. 

“Just don’t do this again. Ok? We talked, you heard my voice, now it’s time to hang up.” 

“If I call again, will you answer?” 

“Blake--” 

“Give me a time to call that’s good for you.”

She started to yell at him in a whisper but then Blake heard another voice and then Gwen said, “It’s in the fridge, Manó.” 

Blake was subjected to silence as they waited for her son to grab whatever he needed out of the refrigerator and leave the kitchen again. 

“I have to go.” She came back to him. 

“Give me a time, Gwen.” 

“I’m not giving you anything--” 

“All I’m asking is for two phone calls a week--” He interjected just as she did. 

“No.” 

“Just two--”

“One. And we keep it to five minutes.” 

“Two, each ten minutes.” He didn’t skip a beat.  

“Two, eight minute phone calls, and only on Thursdays and Fridays between nine and ten.” 

“Deal.” 

“Fine. Goodbye, Blake.”

The line licked before he could utter another sound. He put the phone back down on the receiver and smiled. 

George was staring at him with a weary gaze. 

He’d probably look at himself the same way if he wasn’t all of a sudden overwhelmed with her, and everything that came with being back in her life again. 

 

=

 

Thursday was an uneventful day. He got up for his early morning run, ate in the Oval, did much of his work outside on the terrace, went to Jackson’s football game, and later on, Teddy’s golf practice. He tried to be involved as much as he could with their sports and academics but with all of his various demands, it didn’t always work out the way he wanted it to. By the time they got home, it was time for dinner and Blake sat down at the table for the first time in what felt like months.

Tonight, they were hosting Bradley and Stephanie, along with Charlie and his husband Marcus. Conversation was flowing easily, due to the boys being allowed to have screens at the dinner table while the adults chatted about everything and nothing. Blake was unusually quiet that night, knowing that he was only several minutes away from calling Gwen. He had already planned his excuse for the night, but didn’t plan on revealing why he was skipping out so early during the cocktail hour until Bradley smoked a cigar with him outside on the terrace. The anticipation was killing Blake and he needed to tell someone that he trusted not to judge him or talk him out of it. They were sipping on a fifty year old scotch when he just blurted it out finally. 

“I’m back in touch with Gwen.” 

Bradley had seen her at the dinner and kept his mouth firmly shut on the subject since then. He was the only one in his life that not only knew about her existence but knew what she looked like, knew who she was as a person. They had, after all, been friends when she and Blake were together.

Brad shifted in his chair and clicked his tongue, an expression to sign that he was thinking, even though Blake knew he wasn’t. 

“Back in touch how?” 

“I have her home number.” 

“That a thing you can handle having?” He asked, swallowing a large mouthful of the amber liquid. 

“I’m not going to abuse it if that’s what you’re alluding to. We’ve only had one conversation and I’ve come longer than that, Bradley.” 

Brad spit up his drink laughing, punching Blake in the arm. 

“What did you expect?”

“Nothing at all. I was surprised she didn’t hang up right away.”  

“Me too...I’m assuming you’re gonna have another one tonight.” Blake scrunched his face, wondering how he knew that piece of information. Bradley answered him as if he could hear what was rattling about in his best friend’s head. “You’ve been quiet all night. Not one fucking word. And you’ve got that stupid look on your face, the same one you wore for a week after you met Gwen.” 

Blake smiled. “I’ve been told that’s just my face.” 

“Gwen used to say that.” 

He sighed, rubbing the prespieration from off his forehead. “I know.” 

Bradley whistled. “As your best friend, I’m gonna tell you something and you’re gonna ignore it like you always do.” Blake hummed, waiting for him to get on with it. “You’ve served your country ever since you graduated high school. You got a law degree, ran for the highest office in the world, and  _ won _ . You have a beautiful wife, two gorgeous boys, and a whole country in the palm of your hands. You have no more room left to hold a mistress.” 

He laughed, snorting into his scotch. “I’m not the cheating type and you know that. Besides, she’s also married with two kids.” 

“I know.” 

“Then you know even if I was stupid enough to try something, she’d put a stop to it right away.” 

Bradley grabbed his hand abruptly, the motion stopping him mid-way from taking another sip. He made eye contact with him, the unwavering kind, like he had something not just important to say but something life changing as well. 

“Listen to me. I trust you. I trust her. What I don’t trust are the facts of life. You left her out of love. The way you left was shitty and cowardly and utterly one of the dickest moves I’ve ever seen. But I know you had to. That doesn’t mean she isn’t still the only woman that fell for you, the real you because she was the only woman that you let yourself be real with. The facts are that you are in love with another woman that is not your wife. Most likely will be until the day you die. I don’t trust the universe to leave that alone. When I was in and out of rehab, everyone and Stephanie’s brother tried to keep her away from me, tried to get her to move on. And what happened? We’ve been living together with two dogs for eight years now. I love her and she loves me. Those are the facts of life.” 

Blake never once took his eyes off his friend during his little speech, but his eyes were beginning to water from not blinking the entire time. “Brad. I’m happy with my marriage. All this is...is me being selfish for wanting to know her again. But that’s what it is. That’s all it is. We’re catching up.”

“Uh huh.” 

There was a knock on the window and both men turned around to see Stephanie waving them in. They stood up, sighing simultaneously, until they saw what was going on inside. As they entered the sitting room, Charles and Marcus were dancing around the room to Frank Sinatra, and Josie was sitting on the couch sipping a glass of wine. The boys were sitting on the floor by their massive train station that him and Jo had bought them last year as a joint Christmas present. 

“We’re dancing now. No more guy talk.” Stephanie said, pulling her boyfriend into an embrace. Bradley tipped his head to Blake, smirking, as he pulled his woman close. Blake tilted his head at the little fucker. 

Josie rose from her spot on the couch and walked over to him, half expecting him to pull her in tight too, the other half waiting for the other shoe to drop with the weight of rejection. He gave it to her. 

“I have to finish some work in the office.” 

She hid her grin behind the rim of her glass. “Of course you do. The boys are going to bed soon, so I imagine you won’t be back in time to tuck them in.” 

He shook his head. “I’ll visit them later.” 

“You always do.” 

He kissed her cheek regretfully and followed Frank and Tom out the door. 

As he walked down the halls, he felt progressively sicker. Not because he was going to call Gwen. He had no reservations about that. But because he lied to Jo and said that he would be awhile, knowing damn well that Gwen made him agree to two, eight minute conversations a week. 

He could’ve tucked his kids in.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lani is Hawaiian for sky, the heavens. It's pronounced LAH-nee. That is the name of Gwen and Wyatt's daughter. Their son's named is Manó. It's Hawaiian for shark and pronounced just the way it's spelled and sounds. Hawaii is a big influence on this story and as more of Hawaii becomes a bigger part of the plot and history of the characters, I will continue to explain the customs, traditions, and any other mentions of the state to keep you guys informed as much as possible in that regard.

“Nine on the dot. You were always punctual.” 

Blake smiled into the phone, “The first thing that you liked about me.” 

“No. The first thing I liked about you was that you smiled with your whole face.” 

“I still do.” 

She sighed, “I know. I see it on TV all the time.” 

He let out a breath. “You watch me?” 

“I see you. There’s a difference.” 

He hummed. “Where are you?” 

“Sitting on my couch, twirling the phone line around my fingers.” 

He laughed, “Nothing’s changed.” Her laughter started and before they both knew it, they were giggling over the phone like a bunch of teenagers. When their chuckles subsided, Blake sniffed, staring off into the distance with a dumb smile on his face. He could only hope that Gwen looked the same. 

“Where’s your family?” He asked, quietly. 

“On Thursdays, Lani has dance practice until eleven and Manó has a sleepover with one of his friends. Darren’s mother carpools on Thursdays…” Blake smiled. Hearing her talk about such normal things was endearing. 

“What about the husband?” 

“Wyatt doesn’t come back until Sunday. You?” 

“It’s bedtime for the little tykes...Josie is most likely in the bath.” 

There was an awkward silence that he felt more than he heard. Gwen’s soft breaths were loud in his ears, and Blake swore sometimes that she was breathing for the both of them.  

“What are we doi--”

“I missed yo--” 

They said at the same time. Her breath seemed to stutter in her lungs and Blake realized he was the one that said those three words. 

“I missed you. I gotta say it. If you’re gonna allow me to be back into your life, whatever the capacity, I had to tell you so that I could talk to you without thinking it every five minutes. And don’t hang up. That’s the only serious thing I’ll say tonight. The rest can be whatever you want to talk about.” 

“I don’t know what to say, Blake. I can’t--there’s nothing for me to say.” 

“Gwen--” 

“Think about it, please. What are we gaining by doing this? In case you haven’t noticed, nothing has changed for the past thirteen years. I live in Hawaii, you in Washington. We both have families. You’re the President of the United States for crying out loud. We can’t do this. We can’t see each other, we can’t meet up like old friends and have a drink. Nowhere in this world does it make sense to do what we’re doing now.”

“We’re talking. That’s what we’re doing now. We’re two people talking.” 

“Blake--” 

“I’m not the President. You’re not the wife of a pilot or the mother of two beautiful kids.” 

“Then who are we?” 

“You are just a girl, on the phone with a guy, twirling the cord around her fingers, dying to tell him everything he never knew. And I’m just a guy, on the phone with a girl, waiting to listen.” 

That stutter in her lungs, she finally let it go, feeling the tension drain from her body.

“Thirteen years and you still talk like you came out of a movie.” 

He cracked a smile. “Talk to me.” 

“About what?” 

“Anything. Tell me something I don’t know.” 

“You know everything. You always did.” 

“I don’t know what that little corner cafe that we always used to go to looks like now. It has been awhile since I’ve landed a plane in Hawaii.” 

She sighed, “The owner had the inside redone. It’s not yellow anymore. It’s all blue. It’s beautiful.” 

Blake closed his eyes and tried to picture what the establishment would look like stripped of its sunshine and now bathed in an ocean. 

“Do you still go there every Sunday?” He asked. 

“With Lani. We go around lunch time every week.” 

“She seems like your best friend.” 

“She is. And she’s growing up so fast that I’m having heart palpitations every time she tells me that she wants to go to the strip with her friends or the beach with a bunch of boys. I’m not ready for it. She’s only twelve.” 

Blake inhaled sharply, the tight movement causing a slight ache in his chest. 

“Jackson is only ten. I can’t imagine him talking to me like a young man one day. It’ll freak me out.” 

Gwen laughed, her hand covering her mouth in that way she did, insecure about the way her soft lips stretched over her teeth, and the way the sound echoed no matter where she was. It was the messiest laugh he had ever heard. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed.

“Blake.” 

“Hmm?” He came back out of his reverie. 

“It’s been eight minutes.” 

Blake’s deep, audible breath was incredibly obnoxious to his ears but he couldn’t help it. 

“You’re not being serious?” He asked. 

“You said we had a deal.” 

He started to laugh, “I didn’t think you were actually serious about the eight minutes. I thought it would be a quick conversation but not that quick.” 

“I meant what I said. You wanted to talk, we’re talking. But we’re not going to stay on the phone for hours like we’re a couple of dumbstruck teenagers in love.”

“Wow. Destroy my hopes before I even get them up.” 

“Shut up and say goodnight.” She smiled into the phone. 

“Goodnight, Gwen. I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

“Nine and ten.” She reminded him. 

“Got it.” 

“Goodnight, Blake.” 

The phone clicked and Blake set it down on the desk, the one hand grabbing the edge. He held on tight and waited for that wave of nostalgia and residual pain to pass. 

That night, as he kissed his boys goodnight, Blake crawled into bed with Jackson this time and fell asleep stroking his light hair. 

He would have to ask Andrea for those pictures of Gwen’s kids after all. 

 

=

 

It had been three weeks. Three weeks and six phone calls and Blake had been sleeping better. Of course, he had woken up the majority of the mornings in one of his sons’ beds but he slept the whole night versus waking up in the middle of it and staring up at the ceiling wondering if he was actually happy or not. He liked Teddy’s room best for those nights because his son was obsessed with space and pretty much had the entire universe up on his ceiling. The stickers were easy to look at when sleep was difficult.

But talking to Gwen had somehow alleviated that stress from his life. He didn’t know why he expected anything different. She could always read him, tell if he was lying or not, gage his moods and decide what he needed--mainly from her. Their conversations had healed a part of his soul that he hadn’t realized was slowly rotting away. He forgot how much he liked just the action of talking when he was on the phone with her. Especially when their exchanges consisted of everything that he couldn’t say to everyone else in his life, even Bradley. Gwen and him talked about their kids, how different and similar they were, how that ache in their chest never quite went away because a part of their hearts were walking around outside of their body and to see it grow and experience pain that they couldn’t take away or even alleviate was the most frustrating part. 

They talked about other things, like their favorite foods, movies (although Blake didn’t really have time to watch any as of lately),  and books. They talked about random things, like how the universe is vast and aliens are out to get them and how there really is no peace in love and war. It was like old times, except for just that. They didn’t talk about their past as a rule of thumb. It was forbidden and not conducive to their predicament. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself as of lately. But he was happy that his new found outlet had no adverse effects on his life or his marriage.     

For Josie had been uncharacteristically joyous these past couple of weeks as well. And considering that Blake was in a better mood, their union had been relatively untroubled, surprisingly carefree, and he was nothing but grateful for it. He wanted this feeling to last forever, this ideal situation to extend on for an eternity. 

He knew he was a fool to think that it could. 

Blake had just packed up his work for the evening and sent everyone home, or at least back to their desks, and ventured through the house to find his wife. He remembered her talking about eating lunch with a designer that she had finally managed to get down to Washington after weeks of begging.

He found them in the gardens, sitting at one of the veranda’s tables. His wife was facing him and as soon as she saw her husband, she smiled that gorgeous smile of hers. Blake felt his insides warm at the sight of it. 

“Hi, Honey.” She stood up and he came around the table to kiss her cheek. “I want you to meet the woman who is gonna be responsible for every stitch that you take off of me every night.” She winked and Blake had never heard her talk like that, let alone in the company of others, friends or not. 

Blake smiled and turned to look at the woman. His smile dropped immediately and his blood ran cold. 

Gwen was looking at him with a half grimace on her face, trying to keep a smile as she stood up and extended a hand to him. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. President.” 

Both of their hands were dry. She held no weight behind her shake, all compliance and quietude illuminating it. “The pleasure is mine.” 

He let go and returned his attention back to his wife, smiling. “I wanted to see if you were almost done. I had Michael make your favorite cheesecake this morning. I thought we could share it over a bottle of wine.” 

Josie smiled wider than he had ever seen her do before. She touched his cheek for a brief moment, “I’m almost done here with Gwen. Let me just go fetch some of the designs that May left last time she was here.” She turned around, excited, addressing Gwen once more. “Just give me a minute, I’ll be right back.” 

His wife walked inside and Blake wasted no time in grilling Gwen immediately. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Ask the First Lady. She’s been harrassing my people for weeks about me flying out here for a consultation--” 

“You’ve been in contact with my wife for weeks and you didn’t think to mention that to me?” He hissed.

Gwen flinched when he said wife. Her eyes pierced his as she crossed her arms over her chest. Blake’s own were drawn to the motion and as he gazed upon her form, dressed in a pale cream colored dress that accentuated her small, yet fit frame, his resolve and agitation lessened. 

“ _ I  _ wasn’t talking to her. My assistant was. I told Koko to tell her that I was flattered but I wasn’t interested.” 

“Yet you’re here now.” 

“Yes, because your  _ wife  _ insisted that I meet with her to discuss the job in person and then proceeded to tell me how much she was willing to pay. I have two kids milking us every month for club and sports fees, not to mention Lani’s dance competitions. Wyatt only makes so much...the shop is doing well but I don’t have a lot of foot traffic from the locals and Hawaii isn’t exactly the cheapest place to live, as you know.” 

Blake ignored the dig and instead focused on her apprehension. He could hear it in her voice, the way it wavered and dropped. She probably hadn’t anticipated revealing that much to him about her personal life. He was almost sorry that he pushed. Almost. 

“Are you going to take it?” He asked. 

Gwen looked surprised at his question. She squinted her eyes the next moment and Blake tried to school his face. “You want me to.” She stated. 

“I didn’t say that. I asked if you were going to--” 

“You want me to. You see that there--” She pointed to his eyes and they crossed as her finger grew closer. He batted her hand away. “It’s a tell.” She told him. 

“What do you think? You think I want my ex-girlfriend working alongside my wife everyday? No. Absolutely not. There is nothing in the world that I want less right now.” 

“You think I want to move to Washington? I’d have to take my kids from their home. Put them in new schools, be farther away from my husband. Wyatt would have to transfer camps. I would have to see  _ you _ everyday.” Blake gave her a vexed look. “I don’t want to but her offer is too good to just pack my bags and fly back to Oahu and forget I ever came. I mean--the First Lady would be wearing my dresses.  _ My _ dresses, Blake. Do you know how amazing that would be?”

He knew that Gwen didn’t crave attention the way some women did--the way Josie loved. But attention didn't have to absolve her from recognition. Putting the dots together, which he should have realistically done from the moment he heard the conversation about some designer out in Hawaii with the name Stellina that she was his little star and those were her dresses that his wife were continually looking for. Even if she did take the job, public record would know her name, her kids’ names, but Gwen Stefani didn’t have to speak out into the world when Stellina was perfectly capable of speaking for the both of them. She didn’t have to show the world Gwen Stefani at all. In fact, he preferred it if she didn’t. Besides Brad, her brother, and a couple of locals around the neighborhood that they used to live, no one knew of their relationship and if even the slightest rumor that the President’s ex-girlfriend was working as the First Lady’s stylist got out, it’d be a scandal, a stain on his entire presidency and Blake did not sacrifice four years already to be elected again, only to erase everything he’s ever done good for the country. It’d be a huge slap in the face. He didn’t give up Gwen to have everything that he’s worked for to be effaced. 

“Okay, I think I found them.” Josie was walking back out onto the terrace, a couple of folders in her hands. She was too busy looking down at the papers to see the perplexed expression on her husband’s face, or the hopeful/uneasy one on her potential stylist. 

Blake reared in his emotions on the matter and put on a smile for his wife. 

“I’m going to leave you guys to it. We’ll eat the cheesecake later for dinner, Hon. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. We’re almost done.” Josie said distracted, pulling out each designs onto the table. 

Blake nodded, “Well. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Howlett. I hope you make my wife very happy...whatever it is that you do here with the dresses and stuff.” He finished off awkwardly, feigning oblivion. He didn’t like lying to Josie’s face so blatantly but he had to do it to keep up false pretences. 

Gwen was always a quick read and an even faster learner. “Will do, Mr. President.” 

He left before he had the gaul to say something else, something highly inappropriate and unnecessary. 

He wished he would have showed that much restraint when he got to the door and turned around to look at the two most important women in his life. But just like he left thirteen years ago, he always managed to do the selfish thing.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start showing pictures of all the characters so that you know what to envision when you read this story. This is how Blake looks when I do these flashbacks. Which I should mention, this entire chapter, although another short one, is a flashback to when they first met. I'll be posting Gwen's pictures next chapter.

Gwen had a usual seat at the cafe, off in the corner, in front of the window with the large scale paintings. She had a predictable order of a glass of banana mango smoothie and an acai bowl in a to go container. Caius, her favorite server, would have her food ready before she even entered the eatery. 

It was a particularly hot afternoon when she visited. Her spot by the window had been taken by an incredibly adorable old couple and Gwen found it hard to be malign. Instead, she shouldered her tote bag and sat down at an empty table in the middle of the room. Caius sat a smoothie down in front of her right away and she smiled gratuitously. 

Gwen’s bag was filled with various pages of half-finished designs and songs. In a mad scramble to find the most recent song that she was working on, several pages dropped from her grip and landed on the floor. In the midst of her trying to catch them before they did, she accidentally knocked over her drink, spilling its contents onto the table. 

“Shoot.” She exclaimed, grasping for the papers that hadn’t yet fallen to avoid getting smoothie on them. 

Gwen grabbed for napkins and attempted to wipe up the mess quickly. She did her best and once she was satisfied with her work space again, Gwen wrapped the soiled napkins in a couple of dry ones and set them off to the side. 

“Here you go.” 

She jumped in her chair and turned around, eyes travelling down instead of up like she expected. There was a man kneeling on the ground, her manuscript in his hand. Gwen’s eyes travelled up to the man’s face and she couldn’t help the smile that blossomed. 

The guy’s eyes were a swirl of azure and teal, like a whirlpool circling around and around until they met at a black hole where his pupils were. His hair was a curly mess on top of his head that probably had more to do with the heat than his actual fringe. He was wearing a white shirt and navy blue cargo pants. Her gaze landed on the dog tags that he was wearing around his neck. 

He moved the manuscript closer to get her focus again and Gwen snatched the song from his hands, coming out of her trance. 

“Thank you.” 

He nodded and stood up. “That a song?” 

Gwen looked over her shoulder at him. “What do you know about it?” 

He smiled. But he didn’t just lift the corners of his mouth to do it. He smiled with his whole face and it made him more handsome, more charming, more open. It was refreshing. 

“I write too. That’s why I asked.” 

“You write?” She asked skeptically. 

He gestured to the open chair in front of her and she nodded wearily, watching as he settled down into it the next second. “I used to write, I should say. I don’t anymore. I don’t have time.” 

She gestured to his uniform. “Yeah, I don’t imagine you would. Military?” 

“Air force, yeah.” 

“Well, thank you. For your service and your sacrifice.” 

His eyebrows raised and he tilted his head to the side just a bit. 

“What?” She asked. 

He shrugged, “Nothing. It’s just...I have a lot of people that thank me for my work. Everyday. But none ever for my sacrifice. Except you.” 

He blinked and the beauty of the color was momentarily covered by the shield of his eyelashes; naturally long and soft looking--strikingly feminine compared to the rest of his well structured, sharply designed features. It was probably the only feminine thing about him. 

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” She smiled. “Giving yourself day to day, night after night, morning into morning, for me and the rest of the population on this island--in this country? Service and sacrifice, they go hand and hand, right?” 

“Just like gratitude and grief.” 

She stopped smiling. “I’ve been saying that for years.” 

He picked up the smile she dropped. “Really?” 

Her fingers toyed with the corners of her manuscript while she tried to find the same speech that she used to tell her friends and family back home. “Short version. We’re all grateful, we all give thanks, and we all think we can do more to feel less like shit when we do. Nothing in life stands alone, not even your kindness, and if it does, you can be sure there’s a million other things running up behind it, waiting to take its place.” 

He chuckled and extended a hand to her. “Good to know. I’m Blake.” 

She shook it softly. “Gwen.” 

“What a breath of fresh air it is to meet you. Gwen.” 

Her cheeks didn’t color, her face didn’t warm, but her soul brightened and she felt less alone in the world. Gratitude and service, sacrifice or not, she knew in that moment that grief would always follow right behind them. 

She often wondered from that first day what would be there to take its place in the end. 

=

The moment his phone rang, Gwen had a feeling that she would see him around again. To think that he probably had a certain day that he came to the cafe too, that he sat in a certain seat and ordered a specific lunch, and she just hadn’t seen him until then...was a pleasant thought. It gave her hope that he would make an appearance in her life again, if not for the conversation about humanity, then for the company between meals. She’d like that. She just hoped that he did too. 

They said their goodbyes and Gwen ate her fruit and oats in relative silence as she started a new song. If the lyrics were filled with blue eyes and gratitude then that was just a coincidence.

Just like it was a coincidence that they met again at the little corner store just a week later. She walked in, bag hanging half off her shoulder, a croissant in her left hand and a mug of coffee in her right. This time, her table was free, and she sat down into it right away, basking in the glow of the sunlight that filtered through the window. Caius set her smoothie down two minutes later with a wink. She grinned over the rim as she watched him walk away. Her eyes travelled around the room and instantly, like she was being pulled, they landed on Blake. He was sitting on the other side of the room, sipping a cup of coffee himself. He set his cup down and looked at her again, smiling. 

Gwen looked away, only for a brief moment, then looked again. He was still staring, still smiling. She nodded him over, and then focused her attention back on her bag. She tried not to care if he accepted her invitation to join her or not but she didn’t think she could keep her disappoint at bay if he didn’t.

Thankfully, his footsteps grew closer and his voice rang through the air like a early morning bell signaling the start of the day.

“May I?” 

She shrugged, pretending like she didn’t care. The chair’s legs scraped across the floor as he pulled the seat out and sat down. Gwen was still searching in her bag, sifting through papers and avoiding to have to make the first greeting. But he wasn’t saying anything and the silence was starting to unnerve her. She looked up finally with a sigh. 

He had one leg crossed over his lap, and a pretty smirk on his face. “Hi.” 

She let out a breath and smiled. “Hi.” 

“I missed you.” 

She would have swooned if it wouldn’t be too revealing. “Really? I find it hard to miss someone you barely know.” 

“Well, let me get to know you then.” She couldn’t help it. She did swoon that time. 

He continued, “You know, so I can miss you properly.” 

Her laugh was unexpected and nice and something she wished she indulged in more. 

“You’re crazy. Where are you from?” 

His face sobered up. Blake cleared his throat, “Oklahoma originally. We moved to Arizona when I was eight. I went into the airforce when I was eighteen and now I feel like I’m from everywhere.” 

“I know what that feels like. I’m from California. But I did study abroad programs when I was in highschool and then throughout college. I didn’t think I would ever do something like that or even have the money to but my parents were really great.” 

“What was your favorite place?”

Gwen had to think about that one before she realized her answer had always stayed the same. 

“Honestly? Anaheim. It was where I grew up and it’s just...home.” 

Blake nodded, “Yeah, I get that.” 

Caius came to the table to drop off her acai bowl. But he had another plate in his other hand and set it down in front of Blake. She looked over at his food. He had a bagel with a hefty amount of poi slathered between the toasted bread. Blake unwrapped his silverware and placed his napkin in his lap. He picked up his bagel and took a huge bite. He licked his lips and sighed, looking up at her briefly. She was staring, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. 

“What?” He asked around a mouthful of bread and poi. 

“Nothing. It’s just, Caius must think of you as a regular.” 

“I’ve been coming here ever since I got sent to Base. I wouldn’t say I’m a regular considering I don’t always make it here every week but me and Caius go way back. He takes care of his own.” 

Gwen smiled and looked over to the counter where Caius was wiping up some spilled water. 

“Yeah. He’s a great guy, isn’t he.” 

When she turned to look at Blake again, he was grinning at her. “Yeah, he is.” Blake pointed to her food, “Are you going to eat that?”

She looked at him oddly and laughed. “Yes, Blake. I’m going to eat it.” 

He shrugged and went back to his own meal. Gwen decided to start eating hers. 

And that’s how they spent the rest of their time there at the little corner cafe that she loved so much. They ate in relative piece. Gwen worked on her songs and Blake read the local newspaper. It was nice. The first time that she actually felt comfortable enough not to fill every molecule in the air with words and empty conversation. Blake looked like he was just content to sit there with her and exist. 

It was what people like her dreamed of. Companionship, simplicity, all things people want desperately but don’t know how to go about getting them. She didn’t even know how she had managed to do it, find it--find him. All she did was sit down and drop some papers one afternoon. Now she was sitting across from him, dropping her guard instead. All those walls that she had managed to build up where slowly coming down. And it didn’t take a bulldozer this time to do so. 

All it took was a man in a uniform claiming to miss her. 

She didn’t know that thirteen years later he would repeat the same sentiment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for being so patient guys. Halloweekends was fun and an absolute wreck for my sleep schedule. But updates should be coming regularly again. I have pictures of Blake's two boys and Josie. Jackson is the oldest one, with the adorable freckles that he got from his mom and Theodore has those blue eyes like his daddy. Gwen will come next chapter for sure, sorry for the push back. Also, I've added links to two songs. I don't like writing lyrics out and for the purpose of this story, music performances won't be a huge deal. I tend to deal with plot more and the music is sort of a background thing. you can listen to the full songs on youtube if you want. And lastly, this part of the story is far from done. Gwen hasn't left yet. ;)

 

Tom watched the President watch his son from the doorway of the piano room as Jackson attempted to play a song that he had just learned. The First Lady had gotten him a teacher to come on the weekends and play with him for an hour in the mornings. Tom often wondered how the boy could learn anything in such a short period of time, but as his President and the security detail would walk past the room on the way to the Oval Office, Jackson’s playing could be heard. And the sounds that came from the room weren’t a reflection of a ten year old beginner. Jackson had a knack for mastering new songs without much difficulty. He also knew that it filled the father of two with pride to know that at least one of his children connected with music the way he once did himself. Even more so because the President didn’t play often. There were only a handful of nights in 47’s first term that he had the agents stand outside of the piano room while he played a handful of songs for them. It was like having your own private show, and Tom didn’t mind those nights nor the music, even if the songs were muffled through a closed door. President Shelton was very good at playing, whether it was the piano or guitar, it didn’t matter. 

Of course, his playing was limited. The President never sang a word. He would hum along with the melody, or sigh with the notes, but that was the extent of it. Tom knew it was because of a past love. Before Stella, he didn’t play at all. With Stella, he played everyday. Once she was gone, he didn’t dare touch another piano key or guitar string until Jackson was four years old. All roads led back to her. 

Tom had known that for over two years. He found it out on a particularly rough night for the President as he promptly drank his depression down with one too many moscow mules. It was that night when he confessed to Tom and only Tom in the Oval Office that he missed her--Stella. Tom was struck dumbfounded for a moment before he realized what the President was saying, or more to the point, confessing. Tom had then tried to stop him from saying anything else. His President had secrets, and though Tom was loyal to him, inexplicably devoted to the man, he knew that the Leader of The Free World was an incredibly private person. He’d regret ever opening his mouth to Tom in the morning, and the younger man didn’t want President Shelton to feel any kind of embarrassment just because he let his guard down one time. Tom vowed to protect the man at all costs, and that included protecting him from himself, too.

But the more he tried to protest, the more he saw in 47’s eyes that he needed to get whatever it was off of his chest. His President had asked him to take a seat. It was wholly unprofessional for him to do so, not to mention unsafe. Tom was on duty, and needed to be on his feet at all times. But as the older man insisted more and more, Tom’s warm faith in his chief won over and he told himself it would just be for a second. Nothing longer. So he sat. 

And he listened to President Shelton talk and slur the more time passed. Tom had learned that Stella was a nickname for his old flame. 47 had never actually told him what her name was but that didn’t bother the agent. What bothered him was the man’s smile. He smiled the entire time as he talked but it wasn’t the smile of his President, more of a man that he didn’t recognize. It was a smile of a man still in love with the wrong woman, a man that did not want to be president. He smiled and Tom saw so many more secrets that he was hiding. 

Eventually, he nodded off and Tom stood up at the precise moment that the older man’s head fell back onto the couch cushions behind him. He was drunk and exhausted and perhaps in pain. It was a glimpse inside of the man that everyone thought was made of steel and perpetually, unpierceable. 

Tom gave the President exactly eight minutes to sleep where he was before protocol kicked in and Tom opened the door to call Frank in. The two men picked their President up and wrapped his arms around their necks as they walked 47 down the halls of a very quiet and thankfully, empty house. Once they reached the East Wing, Frank knocked twice on the door before they walked in.

The First Lady was sleeping soundly in bed when they carefully entered the room and deposited her husband onto the bed. Tom allowed Frank to take the lead in getting the President’s pants and shoes off. He let him tuck the man into bed and turn off the lamp light. He let him take care of all of his needs because Tom had his secrets--well, one of them. He didn’t think there was anything more trusting than that. And the next day, when he started his evening shift, he half expected the President to call him into the Oval to apologize and ask for his silence on the matter but when he saw 47, he was back to normal. He didn’t request for his presence alone or even his loyalty. And when he did bring up the previous night, it was to thank him and Frank for seeing that he got to bed alright.

Something struck Tom in that moment. 

The President didn’t remember. And if his President didn’t remember...Tom would forget.       

“Dad! Don’t watch me.” 

The senior agent forgot the memory as the boy’s father smiled. Jackson had stopped playing, and was looking at his father with an irate expression. It was such a comical sight for a small face that even the President chuckled along with him. Although, Tom’s laugh was silent and entirely in his head.

“It’s not funny.” Jackson pouted. 

“No. You’re right. It’s not.” The father of two walked further into the room and gestured for Jack to move over as he slid in next to the boy on the ivory bench. “I’m sorry.” 

“Why were you just standing there? It’s weird, Dad.” 

He smiled and ran a hand through his son’s autumn curls. “You’ll understand when you’re older and have kids yourself.” 

“I won’t ever have kids.” 

“That’s what I said. Now I wake up every morning to you and your brother.” 

Jackson laughed and shoved his elbow into his father’s side. 47 smirked and pulled Jack closer. They sat there for a few minutes, not speaking, just listening to each other’s breaths as their chests rose and fell in synchronicity. Then..  

“Hey Dad?” 

President Shelton hummed. 

“Have you written any songs before?” 

Tom saw him pause. Thinking of an answer clearly became a struggle and the agent could only presume that it was a sore spot for the man to talk about. But Tom knew President Shelton didn’t want to lie to his children. 

“I have. I don’t anymore. But I have. A long time ago.” 

“Do you remember any of them?”

“Now you’re just being slick. If these questions are meant to get me to sing one of them for you, you’re gonna be seriously disappointed.” 

Jackson’s whole faced dropped. “Seriously, how do you do that?” 

47 laughed and scratched the boy’s scalp soothingly. “I’m your Dad. I know you better than you know yourself. Don’t ever forget that just in case you want to sneak out of the house when you’re a teenager and do stupid things.”

Instead of smiling, Jackson touched a key and sighed. “I want to write one day.” 

The President changed approaches. “And I’ll teach you how if you want. But I’m not singing.” 

“Why not? What’s the big deal?” 

“I just don’t have the time right now.” 

“Yes you do. Mom said that dinner wouldn’t be done until seven and its…” He picked up President Shelton’s left wrist and took several minutes to read the short and big hand enclosed in the tiny glass. “Six and some change.” He finished. 

His smile split into a huge grin. That wasn’t what he meant but he knew Jackson wouldn’t understand if he tried to explain. The older man looked down at his watch, amused, reading the time for him. “Six thirty-three.” 

“That’s what I said.”

He tickled his son for that smart ass reply and Jackson laughed loudly, protesting and pushing his father away. He relented only when he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

The First Lady greeted Tom as she rounded the corner and smiled at her husband and son. 

“Hi, Hon.” He greeted. 

“What are you boys up to?” 

“Make Dad play me a song on the piano, Mom.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “Get Dad to play? You’re better off solving climate change, buddy.” She joked. 

“Ha. Ha. Is dinner ready yet?” The President asked. 

“Almost. Hey, I asked Mrs. Howlett to eat dinner with us instead of eating at her hotel alone. Her flight doesn’t leave until noon tomorrow so I thought she’d enjoy the company. Plus, I think she’s really considering saying yes to being my stylist. Isn’t that just amazing?” 

Tom knew the sensation of feeling his blood clot right there inside of his body. His skin would turn ashen and his eyes would pop as if they were straining to focus. To say that the President didn’t look the same way right now would be a huge oversight on Tom’s part. 

“That’s great.” He said weakly. “Really, I’m happy for you. And I’d love to have her over.” 

The First Lady smiled and walked over to them, kissing President Shelton on the lips and Jackson on the forehead.

“Don’t forget to wash up. You too, Blake.” 

The two males both nodded and she left the room in a happy flourish. Tom watched his chief sigh and visibly release the tension he’d been holding since the First Lady mentioned Mrs. Howlett. 

“Hey, Dad?” 

“Yeah?” He answered, looking down at Jackson. 

“Why is Mom such a girl?” 

Jackson’s father looked like he needed that brief moment of joy to weather whatever it was going on inside of his head. The President laughed and pushed Jackson up from the bench. “Don’t let her hear you talking like that. Get Teddy and the two of you go wash up for dinner.” 

Jackson sighed but listened to his father. “Lasagna, Dad.” 

“Eat more than three bites and I’ll let you have extra screen time.” He said, knowing that would entice Jack to at least eat some of his dinner. Tom knew virtually everything about his boss’s kids, including their favorite foods to eat. Lasagna for Jackson was not one of them. Both men didn’t know why the First Lady had the kitchen prepare it if half of the table’s patrons didn’t like it. The President was a part of that half. 

“Fifteen minutes.” Jackson bargained. 

“Ten.” His father replied.

“Twelve.” 

“Seven.” 

“Hey! You went down that’s not fair.” 

“Ten, and I’ll think about getting that dog you and Teddy wanted.”

“If we had a dog, we could just feed it what we don’t want.”

“That’s not why you get a dog.” 

Jackson rolled his eyes and turned around, calling over his shoulder. “Fifteen minutes and a dog, final offer.” 

The President chuckled as he watched Jackson walk out of the room, giving Tom a high five as he did.

“Don’t encourage him,” his President said jokingly. 

“If I may, Sir, I’d suggest being less of a doormat next time in negotiations.”

He laughed and turned around to face the piano again. Tom guessed that he didn’t feel like getting up right away, so he sat there for a few minutes more, looking around the room as he fought the urge to play a couple notes. When he deduced that a couple of presses of keys wouldn’t kill him, Chief allowed himself to play just a few. The feel of the notes vibrating against his fingers was something that he would always love. It was the same when he played guitar. The strings would feel rough, a contrast to the smooth ivory keys he was touching now, and they would put him into an almost euphoric state. 

Before he knew it, he was playing an old song that he hadn’t thought about in years. The mellody came natural to him, as did the playing, and he looked like he hated himself for giving in so easily. President Shelton hummed the lyrics instead of singing them outright. Until he got to the chorus, then his voice grew slightly louder and his sounds became more coherent, finally resembling words.

“ [ And you should take yourself. ](https://youtu.be/pQEVcOcYWew) Feel the rhythm, life goes on again. Though I ain’t sure it’s really how we meant. I’ll feel settled in a simple sense. Cause I think of you less and less.”

His words faded into soft humming again, partly because he forgot some of the lyrics, the other part being that he didn't want to continue hearing his voice. Tom didn’t even know if 47 could carry a whole note, let alone a whole song, but from what he could hear, his President had a talent whether or not he wanted to share it with the world. 

His playing trailed off into the air and the silence descended upon him so cruelly as if he could never play long enough to keep it away. He didn’t know why the President cared so much.

Tom was about to intervene when he heard silent footfalls coming down the hallway. He expected the First Lady to be storming down again. But it was a woman this time. She looked lost, but not for a location. She was clearly checked since she was in the private wing of the house. 

As she approached, they made eye contact just as a few notes could be heard again. Tom starred as the woman made her way towards him and the other agent on duty, Dorian. She stopped next to him, and Tom admired her nerve. He also admired the situation. He wondered where he recognized her from when he thought back to the dinner and remembered the bathroom affair. It was the same woman that the President had waited outside a woman’s restroom for. 

The woman, he didn’t know her name, watched as the Leader of the Free World struggled to play for a moment before he sang just a few lyrics to another song. 

“ [ Does it ever cross your mind? ](https://youtu.be/qo6VVgoUiFk) Are you so much older now? Your children playing in the street.” 

His voice was quiet but they could still hear it. The President looked up and stopped playing, head tilted as if he was trying to remember the rest of the song. He played a note and sang again, “Does it ever cross your mind?” He trailed of brokenly and finally snapped. 

His President gave up and closed the lid to the piano roughly, running a hand through his gelled curls as he stood up. He was fixing his blue tie, becoming the poster child of composure again, when he turned toward the doorway and stopped. 

47 was looking at the woman standing right underneath the archway, staring right back at him. When they locked eyes, she moved suddenly, brushing past Tom as she did. It took the Chief eight seconds to realize that she was walking away from him,  and down the hall, before he sprung into action. Once again, Tom was brushed off as the older man followed behind her until he caught her around the waist, stopping in front of her. 

Tom and Dorian surreptitiously looked at the pair. The woman was breathing harshly, her throat swallowing her nerves with each passing second. The President’s blood grew tighter. 

“What were you doing?” He asked, quietly. 

“I was looking for the bathroom. Your wife said it was the first room on the right.” 

He looked into her eyes and saw no trace of a lie. “The second. She must’ve been distracted. It’s the second room.” 

The woman nodded and put her head down as she attempted to walk past him. He grabbed her arm as she went, calling her name. Gwen. 

She stopped. 

The President looked up at Tom and the senior agent immediately looked to Dorian. The two men agreed to avert their eyes. But Tom stole another glance just to see them watching one another. It seemed as if President Shelton forgot why he even stopped her again. 

The sound of small footsteps running down the hall was the only thing that could have made him let her go. The woman silently walked away and disappeared behind the second door. 

By that time, his sons had rounded the corner and were steadily making their way to pounce on their father. Blake bent down and scooped them up into his arms. They were going on about something, rambling excitingly, talking over one another in their haste. He set Jackson down because he was too big now to be carried but Teddy remained on his hip. 

The President caught Tom’s eye as he listened to his youngest recant a story about a lizard they found in the garden. He seemed to be conveying a million and one things to him but at that moment, all Tom got was a name. 

Gwen Howlett was Stella. 

His face didn’t betray his revelation and he was sure the President had no clue that he knew. But he knew what that gaze meant. It was a warning. A warning of what to come.  

A warning of what to expect. He just didn’t know how far down the rabbit hole to anticipate. 

 

=   

 

As a general rule, no secret service was allowed at dinner time. They waited promptly outside, four of them, two by each of the entrances. Inside, Josie and her kids--because her husband couldn’t normally make it in time--would sit every night and wait for the three courses that Jackson and Teddy didn’t bother with anyways. 

Josie didn’t like calling it a lonely time. But that’s what it was. She was lonely. Much of her work and homelife consisted of her talking to children, ordering around White House aides, and making statements for the press about charities and reading events for orphans (all things she loved). But the truth was, she wanted more. She wanted her husband. 

The problem was, she had to share that person with the world. That person being the President of the United States. She had half of him already. The fact that he was being pulled into a million different directions and she couldn’t even get two hands on him, let alone one, had her stress levels rising. But of course, although she was a Shelton, she was a Baker before, and Bakers always held their composure. Blake had always joked with her that she was perfect, too perfect, and nothing could ever break her from that fine-tune temperament. 

Except now. Her composure was slowly faltering as she sat at the opposite head of the table across from her husband. Her sons were on her left as their guest sat to her right. 

Gwen Howlett was something of an enigma. Josie had been called a lot of things in her life. Beautiful, intelligent, bossy, phenomenal, a force to be wreckin with--but she wasn’t a mystery. Now Gwen Howlett...she was difficult to gage, difficult to place in one category or another. Josie didn’t even think she would fit into any of the boxes she had already picked out for her. It was frustrating as much as it was bracing. From the first moment that she looked upon one of Gwen’s designs, she knew she had to have that type of style on her person every day. But someone who was that talented, that passionate about an art form that was lost on a lot of people, intrigued Josie. Meeting the woman behind the dresses peaked her curiosity even more. In their discussions, the first thing that Gwen wanted to talk about was being a mother. And that was more refreshing just as much as it was surprising. From there, they discussed her business in Hawaii and how that all tied into her family’s life. Her openness and honesty was what ultimately convinced Josie to open about her children and her life there at the White House. As First Lady, she was careful to keep a lot of her life close to her chest. But with Gwen, that instinct had all but dissolved like sugar in hot tea. 

There was a genuineness about Mrs. Howlett, one that would be hard to replicate as if she originated from a different space and time. Josie took notice--not just of her authenticity--but of her husband’s peeked interest in the woman as well. Of course, the way he expressed his attention to anything other than work or their children was by burying it underneath layers that she was convinced she would never touch.

Throughout dinner, a quietness descended upon their table, not for the first time. But Josie’s eyes would look up every now and then to see her husband already looking at their guest. There was nothing overtly sexual about it or even inappropriate. It just was, like a fact staring her blank in the face. He was clearly besotted with her. 

The problem was not that her husband couldn’t notice other women. It was the fact that he had never before. It sounded crazy in her own mind but she wasn’t wrong about this. Ever since they were introduced that night on the boat, he had never noticed another woman besides her. She used to think that it was just luck, that he just wasn’t like any other man that she had met. It was a dream made reality. Josie had never had to worry about his fidelity, or half truths, or another woman. She had it easy, easier than most women judging by the stories that she’s heard over the years. But now, now her husband was invoking something in her that she hadn’t felt for some time. 

Ambivalence. 

It wasn’t Gwen’s fault. From the moment that Josie had met the woman, she turned her head. It was no surprise that she would turn her husband’s. But that didn’t lessen her distress about the matter. She had learned that night, that Blake  _ was _ capable of straying. If not in body than in mind. His interest could be stolen. His appreciation voluntarily given. He just needed the right woman to come along and give him a good enough reason to. Josie thinks he found it. 

“So, Gwen. What exactly do you do in Hawaii for fun. Besides the obvious of course. I’ve only ever been there once. It’s actually where I met Blake.” 

Gwen swallowed a mouthful of wine and cleared her throat. “Well, besides surfing and relaxing on the beach, my family really likes to visit my brother’s ranch. We go ziplining and the kids can drive the ATVs up through the mountains behind his property. But that’s really for special occasions. We mostly just go out to eat every Friday at a place called  _ De Cove  _ and stay at home. The beach is just behind us so there’s really nowhere to really enjoy paradise than your own backyard.” 

“Your children must love growing up there.” 

She nodded. “They’re grateful. My daughter loves the culture and my son loves how you can practically see space in the sky during nighttime.” 

“I love space! Does he know that Hawaii is the only state where you can see the North Star and the Southern Cross at the same time?!” Teddy helpfully supplied as he smiled excitedly at Gwen. 

The other mother of two also smiled beautifully at her youngest. “He does know that. In his room actually, his dad put up the entire sky on his ceiling. He says that out of all the stars that are visible from Earth, in Hawaii, you can see over--”

“80% of them!” Teddy said at the exact same time as her. 

Josie saw Blake chuckle at their son and smile over at Gwen. 

“You know, if I do end up taking this amazing job that your mommy has been so kind to offer me, you and Manó can get together all the time and compare notes.” 

“I have a lot of notes so you might want to tell him to be ready.” Her youngest said proudly. 

The entire table dissolved into a fit of giggles and Josie leaned over to run a soft hand through Teddy’s hair.

“I’ll pass along the message.” Gwen replied. 

“What does your daughter do?” Jackson asked. His parents were surprised that he did. 

“Lani is really into dance. So she spends most of her time practicing. But she loves to play the guitar and go camping or horseback riding. If she’s not doing that then you can find her helping out at the local farmer’s markets or giving helicopter rides.” 

“She flies helicopters?” Jackson asked, intrigue written all over his face. 

Gwen laughed. “Absolutely not. I mean, her dad has taught her how to fly one of the fighter jets in his leave but she just helps out with the tours. The people that visit on vacation want to go around and see some of the other islands and Lani is involved in a volunteer program for youths. She rides with the families and the pilot and basically tells them a little bit of history about the different places.” 

“She’s like a tour guide. Remember when you had a couple of your friends over and Alice walked them around the White House and showed them around?” Blake addressed Jackson. 

Jackson nodded his head in understanding. “And they couldn’t go to the East Wing because it was “off limits” and Mom would’ve gotten mad.” 

“That’s right.” Her husband chuckled. 

“There’s places to camp?” Josie wondered. 

“There’s certain places that are off limits just because it’s sacred land. But since Lani is involved with her youth group, she’s met a lot of the native children to the island. They’ve allowed us to camp on their land up in the mountains. Lani normally goes with a couple of friends every other week.” 

“Dad likes to camp. He took us one time up in Camp David but that doesn’t count because he had to leave in the middle of our fire to work in his office for the rest of the night.” 

Blake looked down at his plate and cleared his throat. Josie knew that he tried his best to be present for every moment of the boys’ lives but with his occupation, it just wasn’t feasible. Gwen smiled sympathetically at her husand, sensing his distress about his absence sometimes in his kids’ lives. 

“Well, I think it’s great...your kids having so much experience with nature and their community.” Josie complimented her. 

Her potential stylist smiled and thanked her.

Conversation ceased for a time as they continued to eat--or rather, Jackson and Blake picked at their lasagna while Teddy barely touched his food because he had too much chocolate milk before dinner. Gwen and Josie were honestly the only ones having a real meal that night.  

The staff was just setting down their desserts when the door opened and Andrea walked in, immediately going to her husband’s side to whisper in his ear. Blake set his fork down and nodded. Andrea righted herself. 

“Good evening, Ma’am.” She turned to the boys. “Rugrat number one and rugrat number two.” She greeted them fondly.  

Teddy got up from the table and ran around the end to hug the dark-haired woman but Blake caught him by the arm before he could get past his father’s chair. He pulled his youngest close and reprimanded him quietly. 

“Did you ask to be excused?” 

Teddy whimpered and coward back from his father’s steely gaze. 

“I asked you a question.” 

“No, Daddy.” 

“Go sit back down and ask your mother for permission.” 

He let Teddy go and her youngest sat back down. He asked in the softest of voices if he could get up and Josie softly stroked his hair again, saying yes. He got up much slower this time and walked over to her husband’s private secretary. 

Josie felt a slight sadness for her son. She knew that the boys loved Andrea and didn’t get to see her often because they weren’t allowed in the West Wing normally. But as her husband spent more time away from her and their kids, the punishment and discipline almost always fell on her. The boys took to it differently, as they should, when it was their father using the heavy hand. They listened to him more and Josie was appreciative of him trying to help her out in that department. She knew he didn’t always agree with her rules about the boys, but he was making an effort to be on her team about it and that satisfied her to no end. 

She caught Blake’s gaze just as Jackson asked to be excused as well. Blake gave him permission and turned his eyes on Gwen. The designer was steadily looking down at her plate, sipping her wine. She also caught the flicker of her husband’s fingers twitching to get close to Gwen’s where they stroked down the stem of the glass in a distracting motion. She seemed visibly upset about something and Blake had been made aware of it almost instantaneously.

Josie set her napkin on the table and stood up. The sound of her chair scraping back along the floor alarmed him and he lessened the distance between them. 

“Andrea, it’s been so long. How’s David?” 

She looked up from hugging Jackson and Teddy. “He’s great. Although he has a bone to pick with this one.” She gestured toward her boss. 

Blake stood up and placed his napkin on the table too. “I told you. More married to me.” 

Andrea rolled her eyes, “Are you ready?” 

He nodded and Josie looked at him, on the verge of exasperation.

“I have a minor crisis to take care of. But I’ll be back before bedtime.” 

“Are you going to tuck us in, tonight?” Teddy asked. “Because I want a story.” 

Blake bent down and held both of his sons’ hands. “I can’t do story time tonight but I can do it tomorrow.” 

“Pinky swear.” Jackson let go of his father to hold up his pinky finger. Teddy mimicked his older brother. 

Blake sighed, “Pinky swear.” 

They shook pinkies before Blake stood up and walked over to Josie. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and squeezed her hip. Josie smiled and affectionately rubbed his back as he turned around. Gwen had already been standing up at this point and she held her hand out for him to shake. Josie watched as they did, noticing her husband’s thumb running back and forth over Gwen’s own, where the tip of her knuckle met the soft flesh of her hand. 

She expected him to relay a courtesy goodbye or tell her how much he was looking forward to dining with her again, but it never came. He smiled and let her go all in one breath. The gust of air that had fallen inside the room from when he and Andrea made their exit was cold. There wasn’t enough hot glue and iron pressed dresses to ever warm it up again. 

She was starting to rethink her offer. Not because she was scared or intimidated by her potential new stylist. But because for the first time in her marriage, Blake’s careful demeanor and faux mettle had wavered there at dinner. He became almost unpresidential, a little more human, less of a man that was made out of steel. 

He had suddenly started smiling from the inside. And for someone who’s only ever been on the outside of him, even she could feel that thinly concealed layer--wall--of unquestionable doubt. 

She had not been the one to tear it down. She did not want another to achieve in the area that she failed, especially not another woman. But what really bothered her, what really got under her skin...was who made him put up that wall in the first place.

She had a feeling.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the Gwen that I envision when I do these flashbacks of Gwen and Blake. This is a short chapter but it's to foreshadow things to come so it's important. And I also love some of the humor in here. More to come.

 

There was a dance studio right next door to the bar that most of the men in his squadron frequented. In fact, most of the base went there typically on a Friday night when they needed to blow off some steam. The problem for Blake was, he only had one thing in mind to help him relax from his latest trip and she was denying him from having it. 

Gwen and hi had only met each other a few more times at the cafe before Blake told her that he would be leaving for two weeks. He thought he would be more upset about the departure than she was, but Gwen surprised him. She had admitted her feelings for him. How much she was beginning to look forward to their meetings, or how much she enjoyed talking about anything they wanted to, how they were quiet when they didn’t. She told him that she was just about to call him out on not asking her on a date and now he was leaving. Blake had laughed and grabbed her hand gently on the table, smiling as he looked upon her beautiful face. He didn’t ask her for a night, but for her number instead. Which she gave without hesitation. 

Blake told her that he would text her whenever he had time but to not expect any calls from him. Talking on the phone was a luxury that most of the men on these missions couldn’t afford. She had understood, told him she wouldn’t expect anything when it came to them and him. 

For those next two weeks, they wrote whenever they could. Much of it was about their days and how much they couldn’t wait for him to get back to base. Gwen had no idea how much he didn’t want to be away from her but he felt like that was too much too soon. So he reigned his emotions about her and focused on getting home safely. 

It was a Friday morning when he got back in. Blake texted her once he landed and frowned at the text he received. Hers was short and to the point. She was going to be caught up with writing, sketching, and dancing rehearsals all day. Blake thought it was odd that she had all this enthusiasm up until the time he was actually going to be there for her to do something about it. He had responded that he would see her soon then, and to take care. Seeing her later that evening just had to be a coincidence. He was walking in town with his unit, on his way to Bevy, the bar, when he walked right past her. 

Blake saw her out of the corner of his eye, stopping abruptly much to the confusion of his company. He looked inside the studio, eyes squinting against the harsh, bright lights that the dancers were under. She was in the front, all the way at the end. She had her hair down, and everytime she moved, the semi-long, silky strands moved with her body. 

“Blake. Come on man.” 

It had been two weeks too long in his opinion. He was ashamed to say that he had forgotten how gorgeous she was. 

Blake’s friends called for him again and he nodded, backing away slowly. She hadn’t saw him, so technically, he had no reason to stay and stare like a creep. 

He drank inside the bar for over an hour, until he was sure that she was done and had already left. When the guys and him piled out, Blake stumbled down the sidewalk until he needed to catch his balance. He leant against a window and laid his head on the glass. 

“You good man?” Brad asked him. 

He waved him off, “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll catch up.” 

“You sure?” 

Blake nodded. “I just need a minute.” 

“Alright. Look alive. I’ll see you later. Meet us at Blossom.” 

He half grimaced at his best friend. 

As he saw the rest of the group disappear around the corner, Blake closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He had drank less than he usually did but for some reason he felt nauseous after that last gin and tonic. 

A sudden tap on the window startled him awake. Blake turned slowly to the source of the noise and he jumped again just as soon as he saw who was on the other side. Gwen’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at him, clearly amused. She waved him inside and Blake tripped over himself in an attempt to get to her. 

Gwen was holding the door open for him and Blake actually managed to smile his thanks. 

“Woah, there Cowboy. How much have you had to drink tonight?” She asked him as he leaned heavily against the adjacent wall. 

“Cowboy?” 

She shrugged. “I was thinking of cute nicknames for you while you were away. And seeing how you were clearly a cowboy in your past life, with that accent and all, I thought it was the cutest one. Besides Blakee, of course.” 

He winced, “Ah. Not that one, please.” 

She laughed and closed the door. “Only way I won’t call you Blakee is if you tell me more about you being a cowboy when you were younger. You always skip over your childhood when I bring it up.” 

Blake cursed himself internally for not doing a better job of glossing over his earlier years with her. He stood up finally without wanting to double over and empty the entire contents of his stomach, but his balance hadn’t fully returned and he took a couple of unsteady steps toward Gwen until he had her against the wall. She put a hand on his chest to keep him at a safe distance.

“My childhood was uneventful. I’m more interested in yours, especially why you never told me how good you are at dancing.” 

“So you  _ were _ spying on me.” 

“No. No, I wouldn’t do that. I happened to be walking by and you were moving that beautiful body of yours and I couldn’t just pretend that I didn’t notice.” 

Her cheeks tinted. “You’re drunk.” 

“We stating facts? Okay. I like you.” He revealed as he leaned his face in closer to hers. Gwen backed away, making him focus on her eyes instead of her lips. 

“What do you like about me?” 

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. She was going to make him have to think and talk in coherent sentences and he was going to enjoy every moment of it because that’s how she wanted it. He’d do anything to please her. 

“I like your nose.” 

“My nose?” She asked, incredulously. 

He laughed, “Yeah. I do. And that mouth. And your eyes. They’re brown and I like brown. Every other color is boring.” 

He must have said something right because she allowed him to lean his head on her shoulder. He rested there and breathed against the pale softness of her skin until she nudged him to continue. He raised his head to look at her hair. 

“Your hair is the perfect color to fall asleep to.” 

Gwen laughed with her entire body. She pushed him away but he kept coming back, intruding on her personal space. 

“I’m serious. Don’t laugh.” 

She ignored him and if it wasn’t for his tall and imposing stature, she would have doubled over by now. Blake grinned drunkenly at her and placed his hand over her mouth, muffling her giggles. She stared into his eyes with sparkles littering her irises. It was a sight to behold.

“I like how talented you are.” He told her. “I like how beautiful you are. I like how much I want to drink and fall asleep on your floor.” 

She licked the palm of his hand and he relented, giving some space for her lips to form actual words. 

“My floor?” 

“I don’t trust myself in your bed.” 

The crinkles in her eyes disappeared and the breath she released from her nose was heavy.

“I like kissing you.” He said as he allowed his hand to slide down from her mouth and over her neck. He gripped it lightly, just enough to feel the motion of her throat as she swallowed. 

“You haven’t kissed me.” She pointed out. 

“No but I was hoping you’d let me. And very soon. Because I know it’s gonna be great because everything about you is already great.” 

She exhaled. “You sound like you came out of a movie.” 

“Well, good. Cause from my 90s collection, the girl always lets the guy kiss her back to life in the end.” 

“Not when the guy is too cocky.” 

“You think this is cocky? Man. I gotta work on my delivery then. For next time.” 

“You’re so sure there’s gonna be a next time?” 

“I meant the next girl.” 

She punched his arm and he chuckled, letting go of her altogether to hold his bruised appendage close. It actually hurt. 

“I’m kidding. That was a joke.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest and the motion only served to push her breast up, making them even more easily visible as he stared. She was dressed in nothing but a white tank top and black tights. 

“So no kiss tonight. I’ll respect that. But can I at least walk you home?” 

Her anger lessened some. “You can walk me to my car.” 

“Deal.” 

She smiled falsely at him as she pushed off the wall and walked over to the full length mirror in the back of the room. She picked up her bag and threw her hair into a ponytail as she brushed past him. Gwen flicked the light switch and locked the door behind them as they stood on the dimly lit sidewalk together. 

“You know they say that it's a good sign if a couple can compromise right off the bat.” He leaned in closer to her back to relay the information. 

Gwen finished locking up and thrusted the keys into her bag. She looked over her shoulder at him. “You’re a funny guy.” 

“That sounds like sarcasm.” 

Gwen smirked and grabbed his hand as she led them across the street and to a parking lot behind an old record store. They walked in companionable silence as they neared her black Nissan. 

“Gwen.” 

She hummed as she unlocked her doors. 

“I like that I have fun with you.” 

She turned around and placed her hands on his chest. Not pushing him away this time, but not pulling him closer either. Instead, she leaned in and up to plant a kiss on his cheek. Her lips were in that natural condition of slightly chapped but incredibly soft. She pulled back and smiled with all her pearly white teeth. 

“I like you too. Do you need a ride home?” 

He shook his head. “I’m supposed to be meeting some guys at another bar.” 

She frowned. “You’re gonna drink some more?” 

“It’s not that kind of bar if you’re catching my drift.” 

She looked afronted at first but then laughed quietly. “I wish I wasn’t catching it but okay.” 

“Look. You don’t have to be worried. I’d much rather be looking at you undress then some girl who’s someone’s daughter.” 

She laughed at him and patted his cheek, right over the imprint she left with her lips. “Blake. I hate to be the one to break it to you but I’m someone’s daughter.” 

He paused and the face that he was making must have been funny to her because she laughed even louder. 

“You know what I meant.” Her eyebrows raised as if to say that she didn’t and that he should go on explaining what exactly he meant by it. Blake sighed. “You really gonna make me explain myself in this state?” He gestured to his clearly still pissed self.  

“Well, you gotta work for that kiss somehow.” She grinned. 

“Me saying I really like you wasn’t enough?” 

She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, a clear sign that said it wasn’t.

“Gwen?” 

“Yes, Blake?” 

“Thank you.” 

She looked confused at the change of conversation. “For what?” 

“For being the one.” He said simply.

He could have swore her eyes had misted over but his vision was impaired and his mind a little fuzzy. But when Gwen leaned up again to brush her nose against his, he could tell that what he saw was real…

She kissed him and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. One of Blake’s hands rested below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breaths mingled. It lasted all but a minute before she had the good sense to pull away. Because he never would and he’d happily steal her air until neither of them had any breath left to continue. 

Her lips were a pretty pink color. Her mouth plump and he longed to see it bruised. 

“I knew it.” He inhaled. 

“Knew what?” 

“That I liked kissing you.” He told her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She smiled and bit her bottom lip. “Not bad, Cowboy.” 

“Did I kiss you back to life?” He asked cheekily. 

She hummed, “You know what? I haven’t been hurt that bad to need it like that. But maybe one day you will, who knows.” 

“If it’s not now but later, then that means--” 

She covered his mouth with her hand and his eyes crinkled in the corners as she copied his actions from earlier.

“I know what it means.” She told him.  

She looked into his eyes as she leaned in to kiss the back of her hand, right over his mouth. It was sort of a backwards kiss, but Blake didn’t mind one bit. Everything about them so far was backwards and unconventional. 

“Try not to stare too hard.” She told him, releasing his mouth. She got into the car and grabbed for the door before he even had a chance to close it for her. Before they were completely separated by metal, Gwen said one last thing to him. 

“You know when I said you were a funny guy?” 

He nodded. 

“I meant that. I like a lot of things about you Blake Shelton, but I like the fact that you make me laugh like no one else can the most.” 

The door was pulled shut and the engine was turned on. He watched her drive off of the lot and on down the road with a smirk on his face and a flutter in his heart.

His blood was thrumming and he knew it wasn’t just from the alcohol. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New year has brought many blessings and distractions. Apologize for the long wait. Bare with me.
> 
> Below are pictures of Gwen and her family.

“I’ll handle the rest tomorrow. Charlie will want to go over everything before we submit the proposal.” Andrea shuffled the papers back together on his desk. 

Blake was sipping a moscow mule and looking out the window. His fingers were tapping the edge of his desk and the noise had caught his private secretary’s attention. She put the papers into a manila folder and walked around the oak wood desk to watch him. 

“That’s her right?” She asked. 

He swallowed an ice cube rather roughly. “How would you know?” 

“You said no pictures but that didn’t mean I couldn’t look them up for myself.”

He smiled at her with much irritation. “Nosy much?” 

“Absolutely. And she’s beautiful. In fact her entire family is.” 

“I guess I’ll find out soon, considering she might be moving here.” 

“Yeah. That was a major oversight on your part not letting me find out what she did for a living.” 

Blake rubbed his brow and downed the rest of his drink, setting it down harshly as he stood up and adjusted his pant legs. Some days--most days--he missed the air force uniforms or even jeans and an old flannel shirt that he used to wear everyday of his childhood. Dress pants and shirts with the stupid ties and the oxford shoes were easily the most annoying things he had ever had the privilege of wearing. But he wasn’t the old Blake anymore. He was the President. So switching uniforms from the one he loved to the one the people did was a requirement. 

“Who is she exactly? I mean, come on, who am I going to tell if you tell me?” 

He ran a hand straight back through his hair so that the curls laid flat on top of his head and not directly in his eyes. “Finish wrapping that up and you can go home.” 

“Sir--” 

He leaned down next to her and whispered, “Goodnight, Andrea,” as he walked out of the oval. 

Tom and Frank were there to guide him to the gardens. He had asked just before he reached his office and after Andrea was already inside for them to get Gwen to agree to wait for him in the gardens, near the rose bushes. Frank had interrupted periodically to see their progress so that he could time everything just right. Making sure dinner and social hour ended at an appropriate time so that Blake could end his work soon after to not keep her waiting long. He just hoped that she hadn’t been there awhile. 

“Is she alright?” He asked to no agent in particular. 

It was Frank who answered. “She’s cold, Sir. I offered to get her her coat but she refused.” 

Which meant that she was mad. Great. 

The three men  surreptitiously made their way through the gardens until they found her immaculate figure brushing noses with soft, red, petals that matched the shade of her lipstick color. She straightened up when she heard them approach. 

“Give me five.” He told his guys. 

They stepped away but Blake knew they never went far. 

“Gwen--” 

“What am I doing out here?” 

“I wanted to talk to you before you left.” 

“About what?” 

He looked around the garden to find the words that were leaving him so quickly.

“Look. I want you to do whatever is gonna be best for you and your family. So if taking this job and moving here is what’s best, then so be it. I don’t want our history to hold you back from your successes.” 

Her brown eyes scrutinized him for a solid minute before she opened her mouth. “That’s nice of you to say.” 

“I mean it.” 

She nodded. “You could have told me that over the phone.” 

“Yeah but...I wanted a moment alone with you just in case I never get one again. The White House isn’t exactly a lonely place and I feel like the only time I’m by myself is when I’m taking a shit.” 

Her lips broke into a smile and he was relieved he still could do that for her. 

“Can I leave now? Or do you have something else to tell me?” She asked. 

Blake had a whole treasure trove of things to tell her but not one of those things was appropriate and it was getting late. She should have already been back at her hotel by now if it wasn’t for him. 

“That’s all.” 

Her hand touched his arm briefly as she walked past him. She walked alone back up to the house until she reached the veranda and then three more guards led her to the car that was waiting outside at the back entrance to take her anywhere she wanted to go. 

His arms used to be that place and Blake wished in that moment that she didn’t have the freedom to vanish anywhere in the world where he could not find her. Thank God that he was President, and could exhaust every resource to locate her if he ever needed. 

Blake slept in Teddy’s bed that night. He woke up once or twice, the image of his former lover in the back of his mind as he stared up at the stars and planets. Teddy shifted in his sleep to be closer to the warmth that his father provided. Blake wrapped an arm around his youngest and sighed, kissing his forehead. Thoughts of a child that was never had came to him suddenly. He wondered what their child would have looked like. He wondered what they would have sounded like. Boy or girl. Politics or art. It was a dangerous road to travel down so Blake stayed right where he was. 

It was closer to Earth.

 

=

 

“You can throw two yards Dad, it’s not gonna kill you.” 

Blake chuckled at Jackson as he caught a particularly fast pass. 

They were standing in a triangle. Him, Jack, and Tom. An hour ago, Blake was staring at another decimated orphanage. Now, he was staring at his oldest, laughing and smiling. He cringed at the two conflicting images and threw the ball to Tom. 

Two yards was essentially two weeks since Gwen flew back home. He hadn’t heard from her. Didn’t think he would anymore. If she decided to take the job, all communication would be with his wife, officially. Unofficially...he stopped the thought before it could become fruition. If she didn’t take the job, then he had nothing to keep her around for other than purely selfish reasons. He didn’t want to live like that. Half empty, half wanting, too stupid to realize that when she said there was no reason for them to do this that she was right. 

Blake passed the ball back to his son. His personal cell rang the next moment and he fished it out of his pocket. He excused himself, much to the dismay of his boy, and walked back to the veranda were his drink was seated on one of the porch tables. 

“Brad. How’s the fishing trip?” 

“Luke peed in Bo’s canteen so they’re both sleeping outside the tents until they make up.” 

Blake chuckled at the image. “A bunch of children.”

Brad sighed, “Yeah. How’s the world?” 

“Still saving it.” 

His friend laughed. “Our superhero. Well look, I’m calling about the holidays. We still going to Camp David?” 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Stephanie’s parents wanted to have dinner on Christmas day.” 

“Ah. I see. Well, I can talk to Jo about doing it Christmas Eve instead.” 

“You’d be a lifesaver.”

He nodded. “No problem. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Alright. Talk to you later.” 

“Bye.” 

Blake pocketed his phone and took another sip from his drink. 

“Dad!” 

He sighed. “I’m coming!” He yelled back. 

As he continued to throw around the ball with his son, his mind couldn’t help but drift off to Gwen. What was she doing right now? Was she with her kids? Her husband? Working? Drawing? 

He sighed, frustrated with himself. He should have never loved her if he knew he couldn’t keep her. 

Never again.

 

=

 

“You think the Cardinals have a chance this year?” 

“I’m an Eagles fan, Mr. President.”

“Ugh. I’ll try not to barf the next time you say shit like that to me.” 

Tom laughed in front of him as he led the president down the private wing. It was finally the month of November, more importantly, it was a week before Thanksgiving. Blake's favorite time of the year. He was on his way to the tea room to have lunch with Josie and a couple of their other married friends. Josie had taken to doing this lunch every year as a way for Michael, the white house chef, to try out new recipes for the upcoming holidays. Sort of like a taste test. Blake could hardly wait for it each year. 

They passed the piano room on their way to Josie and Blake stopped when he heard quiet playing coming from inside. 

“Tom hold on.” He stopped the agent and walked closer to the door. He opened it softly and took a peek inside. His frown was unmistakable as he didn’t immediately recognize the young girl sitting at the bench. She wasn’t exactly proficient at playing the instrument but she was practicing a run that was familiar to his early teachings when he was a young boy and just starting out. 

“Sir.” Tom whispered, grabbing his attention again. 

He closed the door, knowing that he was already running late. He was just about to ask Tom if he knew who that was but his boys came running down the hall. He turned around and paused, seeing not two but three little boys.

“Daddy, can we build forts tonight and watch the new space movie?” Teddy asked him, latching onto his leg. 

He was still looking at the little blonde haired boy that he had never seen his life. Jackson had his arm slung over the boy’s shoulders. 

“Sure. Um, let me check with your mother.” He answered. 

“Ask her if we can have milkshakes too.” Jack told him, and the little boy with blue eyes nodded enthusiastically, albeit a little bit shy.

“Who’s your friend?” Blake finally asked. 

“This is Manó. Mommy said him and his sister are spending the night. A sleepover!” Teddy exclaimed. 

Blake's blood ran cold. Just then, the door to the piano room opened and the girl stepped out cautiously. He did a double take. And then his feet caught up with his thoughts and they were taking him right to the source of his conflict. 

The tea room held thirty people or so. Normally, five couples would be there greeting him. This year, there was six. Blake's heart stopped when he saw her. It had been a whole month. A whole month and he had finally just stopped waking up to thoughts of her. A whole month and he finally got used to the idea of never seeing her again. A whole month and Josie had not said another word about getting the woman to take the job.

"Honey. Finally, you made it. I was just about to send the calvary.” His wife joked, standing up to kiss him hello. 

He managed a weak smile and made his rounds. He had to take his time--wanted to take his time because seeing her, talking to her again, was going to take a whole year off his life. But he couldn't chat golf for another fifteen minutes with Kevin or he would cut his ears off himself so that just left Gwen. Her by herself, no husband from what he could see then. 

Her and the same eyes, her and the same voice, and the same smile, and the same smell. Her and different hair. He noticed it right when he walked in and it was such a sight to behold that he couldn't stop himself from staring now. 

“What did you do?” 

She grinned down at the ground. “I needed a change. I figured new job, new home, new hair.” 

He scratched the back of his head. “So you did--I mean you are--” 

“I took the job.” She finished for him. 

“Right. Christ.” 

She bit her lip and looked away. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal and probably really awkward but we don’t have to talk to each other if that would make you--” 

“Will you stop getting more beautiful.” 

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Gwen’s eyes never strayed from their shoes and Blake felt the blood rise to his face, no longer cold and stiff within his body. “I’m sorry. That was...You surprise me. Even after all this time, you still know how to surprise me. I mean moving here. Taking the job...the hair…” He pointed to the brunette locks. Her wavy tresses came to rest just above her shoulders. He had only ever known her to be blonde. The dark color matched her eyebrows and pale features. She looked younger, as if that was even possible. 

“How do you think I felt the first time I saw you wear a suit?” 

“It’s just another uniform.” 

“Mhm.” 

Blake felt a brush of fabric across his shoulder and a flash of grey before Wyatt Howlett came to stand beside his wife. He saluted the President when he saw him and introduced himself again. Blake sobered up from his one-on-one interaction with Gwen. 

“Lieutenant. Nice to see you again.” 

“It’s my pleasure, Sir.” 

“Blake, come on, sit down. We’re about to start.” Josie grabbed his arm and led him away from the couple. He went willingly, casting a smile back to the pair. 

Through the entire lunch, Blake kept his eyes off of his ex-girlfriend. He paid attention to which dish was what and weighed in like he always did. He talked with Brad and Charlie and most of the guys about the football season and let the women talk about whatever it was that they did. The end of the meal was slowly approaching as the lemon cakes were devoured and Blake watched from his seat at the head of the table as his friends made their way to the East sitting room. Josie beckoned him with a tilt of her head and a beautiful smile.

The fireplace was already crackling by the time the adults settled in. Blake sat down in the corner of the sectional and wrapped an arm around his wife. He looked across the room to the love seat to see Gwen and Wyatt in a similar position. He looked away and to the offered moscow mule that Michael was serving him. He thanked the man and downed his first glass all in a minute’s time. 

Conversation continued to flow steadily as Blake watched on. 

Josie, eventually, nuzzled her face into his neck and sighed. “I invited Wyatt and Gwen to stay the night with their kids. I hope you don’t mind. I figured you’d be in the office all day. I’ll entertain the both of them, no worries.” 

Blake tried to stab off some of the irritation he felt at being the last to know these things, especially when they were occuring in his own home. “Why didn’t you tell me that Gwen accepted the job?” 

Josie sat up and gave him a perplexed look. “You’ve never cared about who I hire for my team before.” 

She had a point and he was almost more upset with himself for bringing it up. “You’re right. I guess I just felt like I needed to change that. I care, Jo. About your life, about the decisions that you make. I know you think I don’t sometimes but I do.” 

That earned him another gorgeous smile and a chaste kiss on the lips. She went back to her spot in the crook of his neck and Blake went back to his, staring at Gwen, only to find out that she was already looking at him instead. Her expression was unreadable and she put her attention on Brad soon after as his longtime friend told a story about his recent fishing trip. 

The hour dragged on until eventually, it was time for most of their guests to start heading home. Blake had been called away for some office business around that time. So, he said his goodbyes and followed Charlie to the oval. It wasn’t until several hours later that he was finally free. 

Blake took to venturing around the house in search of the first person he could find. He wanted to laugh when that ended up being three boys, a teenage girl, and Gwen.

They were all in the sitting room, an episode of  _ Full House  _ on the flatscreen. Gwen was standing by the entrance, completely oblivious to his presence. She was watching their sons hop around the room, trying to attach blankets and chairs together to build their fort. The girl was sitting on the couch, staring down at her phone screen. 

Blake came up behind Gwen and lightly touched her hip. She jumped slightly and turned around. His hand travelled from one hipbone to the other. 

“Still skittish.” He murmured.

“Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” 

She lightly took his hand off of her body and held it in between their stomachs. He looked down at their intertwined fingers. 

“Who’s doing what now?” He taunted. 

She smiled and let him go completely. “You gotta meet my kids.” 

Gwen turned back around and called out to her daughter. The girl looked over the back of the couch to stare at him. He tried to make his eyes as soft as possible as he looked upon her. 

“Manó, c’mere please.” The little boy stopped tying a blanket to the end table and walked over to his mother. His sister was right behind him. “I want to introduce you to President Shelton.” 

“Call me, Blake.” He held out his hand first to Manó and then Lani. 

“Can I see the oval sometime?” The little boy asked. 

“Manó.” Gwen scolded. 

Blake chuckled. “Sure. My boys think it’s a boring place now but I’d love to show you both around sometime.”

A whistle sounded out through the air and Blake looked up to see Wyatt walking back in the room. He stowed his phone away in his pocket. 

“What did they say?” Gwen asked him. 

“Furniture should be here by tomorrow evening.” 

“Thank God.” Lani murmured. 

Wyatt tapped her head. “Yeah, so thank you and your wife so much for letting us stay the night here while we sorted that out.” 

Blake didn’t even know that was the reason for the sleepover but he nodded and reassured them that it was no problem. 

“You and Josie and the kids will have to come over for dinner one night.” Gwen offered. 

“Say yes.” Manó whispered. 

Gwen wrapped a hand around the boy’s neck and another over his mouth.

Blake chuckled. “We’d love to.”

As if she could sense herself being mentioned, Josie came into the room with a pile of sheets. Blake assumed it was for the kids. 

“Michael is gonna make hot chocolate for everyone. Is that okay? He can prepare something else if you want.” 

“Hot chocolate is perfect.” Gwen smiled at Josie. 

“I’m gonna pass.” Blake voiced. 

“You okay? What’s wrong?” Jo asked him, worried. 

“I’m tired. I got an early run tomorrow. I think I’m gonna head to bed early.” 

“Aw, come on, Dad! You have to put the stoppers at the top.” Jackson reminded him. 

“I can help if you guys want.” Wyatt offered. 

“My daddy’s taller.” Teddy whined. 

“Yeah, Blake is taller, Dad.” Manó agreed. 

Gwen hid her amusement behind her hair and Blake caught the lieutenant's eye. The pilot shrugged. “You are, Mr. President. Guess you’re gonna have to stick around.” 

Blake shook his head, grinning. “There goes several hours of uninterrupted sleep. Alright, fine. Let’s get this damn thing built.” 

The boys cheered and started working on the bottom layer with the sheets. 

Blake and Wyatt worked on the top layers while Lani helpfully tied the ends to various pieces of furniture. He had no idea where the wives went but by the time they were done, Gwen and Josie reappeared with two trays of mugs, filled to the brim with milk and cocoa. Blake took his and put on the new space movie for the boys. They settled inside the fort and sipped their drinks. Lani opted to stay on the couch and the adults sat next to each other on the sectional.

He was in between Gwen and Josie with Wyatt on Gwen’s right side. He wanted to laugh at the seating choice but kept his focus on the screen instead. The movie was about two hours, and by an hour and a half in, the boys were fast asleep. Josie was in perfect slumber next to him, her head nestled in the arm of the couch. He looked over to his right to see Wyatt knocked out, his head leaning behind him on the back of the couch. He was snoring lightly. Gwen wasn’t faring any better. Her eyes kept opening and closing and when she finally succumbed to sleep, her head rolled slowly to his side. Before he knew what had happened, she was sleeping on his shoulder. Her hair tickled his neck, soft as it was. He knew he shouldn’t, not when they were surrounded by their families, but he couldn’t help himself. Blake leaned down slightly until the tip of his nose touched the top of her head. He inhaled softly, and sighed at the smell of sunflowers and lavender. He was pushing it being this close to her, and when he ever so slightly kissed the top of her hair from where he was beant down, he pulled back almost immediately, seeing the error of his ways. 

He looked back up to the television but felt eyes on him. He glanced over to Lani. The pre-teen was staring at him with a peculiar expression. He saw no contempt behind her eyes, no malice, no disgust, just intrigue. A curiosity only a child on the cusp of teenhood could harbour. 

He smiled with his eyes and was relieved when she smiled with her lips back at him. She still was curious, still looking out for her mother. But she returned her attention back to the movie. 

He could never slip up like that again. Ever. He knew he wanted more. He knew he could never have more. There were children and spouses and islands between him and Gwen. 

He couldn’t part an ocean even if he tried.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the chapter that points us to the new direction of the story. There are like four plots in this fic so this chapter is really important. Updates coming quicker and quicker the more time I have. Also, this is how Blake looks now.

 

Blake was not used to eating breakfast with his family. It was Sunday. He normally went for his morning run on Sunday. Josie had woken up super early to turn his alarm off. His eyes only opened at the sensation of a wet and perfect tongue pressed over the smooth skin of his neck. It travelled lower and lower and Blake sunk deeper and deeper into a little slither of Heaven. They made love that morning, and all Blake could think of was newly dyed hair and red lips. 

Afterwards, he left Josie in bed to take a shower. He said it was to clean up but he couldn’t help rubbing his skin a little harder with scalding water and soap. Like he was rubbing any trace of his wife’s pleasure off of him lest Gwen take one look at him and  _ know _ . Blake leaned his forehead on his arm against the shower wall and sighed. He was allowed to fuck his wife. He didn’t need to feel guilty. Gwen had probably done the same thing with her husband in their guest room. Blake spit at the thought and turned off the water. 

He didn’t put his contacts in. He dressed in a simple white button-up and a pair of jeans. Josie occupied the bathroom shortly thereafter. It was still early so Blake took pleasure in sitting out on the balcony with his tablet as he watched the sun come up. He flicked through various news apps and contemplated dozing off when Josie slid the door open softly and told him she was heading down for breakfast. He waved her off and shared in several more minutes of peace and quiet before he too couldn’t ignore his desire for fresh sausage and fluffy eggs. 

He thought he’d be early to the table but when he got to the dining room, he saw every single one of his guests and family awake. Well, sitting at the table at least. Teddy was half asleep with a piece of waffle hanging out of his mouth. Jackson looked more alert as he sipped a strawberry and banana smoothie. Manó was drenching his cut up sausages in syrup, something Blake smiled at because he did the same thing. Lani just had a plate of eggs and was listening to her mother and his wife chat about dresses and designs. Lieutenant Howlett was reading the paper. 

Blake greeted everyone and sat down at the head of the table. He was served coffee and his own plate right away. There was a quietness to everyone’s interactions that Blake didn’t necessarily ever have in his life. He didn’t have a huge family growing up and with just his wife and two young kids, Blake wasn’t subjected to large, intimate, gatherings such as this one. It was weird to think that this was something that Gwen had always talked about to him. She used to share stories of her own large family and how she wanted to carry on that tradition someday. She had never said that she wanted to carry it on with him specifically and the sting he felt in the back of his throat at how they didn’t wouldn’t allow him to swallow properly.

“Daddy, you’re bleeding.” 

Blake snapped his head to his youngest. Josie reached across the table from his right and put a napkin up against his nose. He held it there and tipped his head back, taking his glasses off. He could vaguely hear Josie explaining to Gwen and Wyatt that this sort of thing happened all the time. Gwen was taking care of him in this state long before Josie started and that thought was the one to make Blake excuse himself from the room. 

Dorian greeted him right away and led him down the hallway to his private quarters. “Can I get you anything, Sir?” 

“A drink.” Blake mumbled through the napkin. He disappeared inside his room and grabbed a rag from the bathroom. He wet it and sat down on the floor. He banged the back of his head against the wall. Harder each time he did it. He hoped the sudden rush of movement would mess with the flow of the blood and make it stop but really, he didn’t much care if it ever did. Let him bleed to death. He felt like he deserved it. 

Dorian came back with a moscow mule, a box of tissues, and his glasses, which Blake ordered him to sit all three things down next to him. Dorian stood in the doorway and waited. Blake sighed and closed his eyes. He heard the bedroom door open and was about to tell Josie that he was fine, to go back to breakfast and that he’d be back in a minute but when he opened his eyes again, it was Gwen hesitantly walking across the room. Tom was standing outside the door and had to be the one to let her in. 

Blake pondered why the agent would allow such a thing but he couldn’t take his focus off of Gwen. She looked wholly out of place in his room. 

“Dorian.” The agent snapped his head to the President. “Go outside. Make sure Josie doesn’t come in.” The young man nodded, face not betraying any emotion. 

As he walked past Gwen, the woman smiled charmingly at the secret service agent. The smile dropped when she looked back to him and his blotchy face.

She entered the bathroom cautiously, stepping over his legs as she walked to the other side of the wall, in front of him. She sat down. For a moment, they just stared at each other. She made no attempt to move to help him, to talk him down, to make him feel any better. And all Blake’s anxiety could do was remind him that if they were seen like this, no matter how innocent they looked, it could be a national problem. 

“Josie said you’d handle it yourself.” Gwen finally spoke. “I had to pee.” She smiled. And Blake realized what she was doing, appeasing his fears, letting him know that Josie wouldn’t come looking for them. “You still get ‘em, huh?” 

He lifted the rag away from his nose. “Every superhero has their defects.” 

She grinned. “That what we’re calling it now?” 

He shrugged. “I’ve gotten them more since you came back into my life.” 

She arched a single eyebrow at him. He wouldn’t go back on his word. It was a fact. She had a profound impact on his body in one of the most peculiar ways and he thought she had a right to know. 

Gwen, seeing that he was serious, returned her face back to neutral. Then, without a moment of hesitation, got on all fours and proceeded to crawl over to him. Blake had to look away for a second, feeling the tightness not only in his heart but in his jeans as well. His former girlfriend stopped right by his side and took the rag from his hands. She set it aside and plucked two tissues from the box on the floor and stuck each one in both nostrils. He still felt the blood rushing to spill and was grateful when she leaned his head back against the wall at an angle that didn’t immediately strain his neck and shoulders. Blake remembered a time where her hands would cure and her body would soothe.

This time, Gwen sat next to him, tucked in his side and leaned her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and wished he was anywhere in the world with her but there. 

“This is a long pee.” He eventually said into the stretch of silence that had enveloped them. 

Gwen laughed loudly, before pushing her face into his shoulder to muffle her voice. He grinned and bathed himself in the feeling of her joy.

Her hand had rested on his stomach as she quieted herself but it moved up to caress his chest, then his neck, then his hair. She carded her fingers through his aging strands and he didn’t know what to do. Brad’s voice was coming back to him in that moment. Promises he told his best friend of not doing anything with Gwen that would constitute as cheating. Was this? Was being touched by her in this way cheating? Was allowing his heart to be this content? Was the stubborn blood gushing from his nose no longer running because of her and her unique ability to save him? Was that cheating? 

“You are such a loud thinker.” She murmured.

He chuckled. “I think it stopped.” 

Gwen raised her head and plucked the two tissues from his face. She inspected his nose and mouth before she was satisfied enough to leave the warmth of his body to dispose of the soiled gauze. 

He looked at her as she moved around the bathroom, cleaning up, keeping her hands busy so that her mouth could stay firmly shut. 

“Gwen.” 

She ignored him so that she could pretend but Blake didn’t want to pretend. 

“Gwen.” 

She turned around abruptly to face him. “I’m gonna make my dresses.” 

He gave her a confused look. 

“I’m gonna make my dresses.” She started again, slower this time. “I have a job to do. I’m gonna do my job. I’m gonna continue to raise my kids and support my husband. I can’t be worried about you. I can’t feel bad for you. I can’t be made to feel like every time you have a nosebleed it’s all my fault when I know it’s not. I can’t.” 

“Gwen--” 

“Treat me like you would if you never knew me and we’ll get past this in no time. Before you know it, me and my family will be back on a flight home and you’ll never have to see me again.” 

She left him with that, sitting on the floor, dried blood on his face, and a heart beating slower than the clock on their relationship.

It wasn’t enough to be in love with a woman like Gwen. You had to nourish the sight of her, give her clean air and room to grow and create. You had to give her a foundation to fall on time and time again but somehow manage to put her up on a pedestal at the same time, one not too high or else she’d get skittish, but never one too low or else she’d feel unworthy. In short, it wasn’t enough to be the man she gave her heart to, the man who broke said heart, and thought he could repair that heart, and believe that she’d ever provide a second chance to hold that heart again. Life was about opportunities but Gwen was a miracle. She wasn’t a choice you made, she was the only option. She wasn’t the woman you left, she was the woman you kept. She wasn’t just apart of this lifetime, she was in every lifetime, in every world. And when he took that flight thirteen years ago, he flew far far away from any place that she’d ever allow him back in. 

Blake pinched his nose and waited for the eventual dam. 

Damn.

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Who sent it?” 

Gwen set her bag and mug of tea on her desk. She dropped back into her chair and held her hand out for the envelope her assistant, Koko, was carrying.

“Dash.” The younger woman replied. 

Her brother’s name was written in dark ink, cobalt blue, across the front corner. She pulled out the card, noting the expensive paper, dense and textured. 

A wedding invitation. 

She smiled. Finally.

Gwen set aside all the mail and asked Koko to bring the new shipment of silk into the drawing room. Her office wasn’t really an office, more of an entire suite, really. But it served its purpose. Besides it being in the White House, it was basically the paradise of all office spaces. It was essentially two rooms divided by two, cloudy glass, double doors. Her desk and view of the outside back lawn was in one room while her sewing machines, drafting tables, and other materials was in the other. That’s where the furniture and private bathroom was too.

She had been working there for an entire month. It was her first time spending Thanksgiving in D.C. She managed to get the apartment decorated in time for the holiday and cooked or usual menu for the occasion. Of course, a couple of things were a little different since most of her groceries came from Hawaii. 

Now it was December, a week away from Christmas and the New Year. It was a little bit daunting to think that she would ring it in with a new set of friends, the few her and Wyatt had made since being there, in a new state, with a whole new set of responsibilities. At least her new job allowed her to spend a little extra on presents this year. 

Gwen sighed and stood up, walking to the main room. The box of silk was waiting for her by the drawing table. She sat down and started in on a ball gown that would be worn for the White House Christmas Party. She had spent three hours alone on the cuff around the neck that led into the torso. It was a little risque drawing a middle part for the chest, since the dress was intended for the First Lady but Josie Baker-Shelton had loved every single one of her designs thus far and at least two of them were on the less than conservative side of history. 

She fleshed out the bottom of the gown with an ivory colored pen in quick flourishes, listening only distantly to her assistant outside the door.

“That would be so cool if you did let us design you a suit one day.”

“I’d wear anything she’d make me.” 

Gwen’s pen bled into the paper at the edge of a line as his voice sent a cascade of nerves down her spine. 

“Promise?” 

Gwen could practically hear the smile in Koko’s voice. She was always fond of the President. She had only met him a couple of times around the House as she went and fetched Gwen a couple of things, or so she’s been told. President Shelton didn’t come to this part of the House. He didn’t need to and Gwen was grateful for it. Ever since that day in his bathroom with the bloody nose, when she told him to treat her like he would everyone else, they had minimal interaction, if none at all. She would occasionally see him as she left in search for his wife so she could show her employer some of the designs she’d been working on, but it was never longer than a moment, a quick glance in his direction as he was coming and going, and sometimes, he didn’t even notice it--notice her. It was on purpose, his indifference to her. Those times especially stung but only mildly. She had told him to treat her fairly, like she was of the world, not to treat her like she was already his whore--America’s mistress, she’d come to know it as--because she wasn’t. She had done nothing wrong. So of course, it was for the best if they didn’t have any contact. 

So what the hell was he doing here? 

She stood up, stiffly, and open the doors that led out into the private receptionist area. Heads turned her way and she forced back the color creeping up her neck and face. 

“President Shelton stopped by to ask you a question. I convinced him to let us make him a suit.” 

“Did you?” Gwen forced an unconvincing smile.

Koko was none the wiser and just smiled in that naive way about her. 

Blake stuffed his hands in his pockets, a handsome grin covering his face. 

“Koko can you go to the kitchen and ask for my lunch early please?”

The kitchen was on the other side of the House. She’d be awhile. Gwen had a feeling  _ this  _ would be awhile. 

Koko nodded and headed for the hallway, making a quick exit to fulfill her orders. Gwen really needed to give her a pay raise. 

The room grew quiet except for the hum of air vents and the click of footsteps as Blake approached her. She really hated those shoes. They weren’t him. In fact, she hated the white, striped, shirt he was wearing too, the silver paisley tie, the grey of his suit. His long legs and arms, the dark hair arranged in smooth curly lines back out of his face. He had shaved. It made him look younger. The promise of a smile in the corner of his eyes was a tragic thing.

“What can I do for you, Mr. President?” Gwen asked evenly as she could manage.

He took a deep breath and looked around the small room. “I wanted to see where you’ve been spending most of your time.” He explained. 

“Well, this is it.” She said curtly. “You really didn’t need to go out of your way or take time from your busy schedule, this place isn’t anything noteworthy.” 

Blake’s eyes traced a steady line from hers, to her mouth, to her neck. Gwen paced over to Koko’s desk and looked for something--anything--that could give her a distraction from his presence. She picked up the drop-waist sketch that she had her assistant be point on, and walked into her drawing room. She glanced behind her to see Blake following, closing the door quietly. Exasperation finally broke her voice. 

“You can’t just show up here like this. There’s no reason you’d need to ask me a question. You shouldn’t even be in this part of the wing. People will notice.” 

Blake moved closer to her, like water lapping at the shore of a lake. “Don’t worry about that.” 

“How can I not? Where are your agents anyways? Isn’t that suspicious, you walking around without them?” 

Blake chuckled. “Gwen, they’re outside in the hallway.” 

She frowned. She hadn’t seen them.

“Well. Still.” She protested.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “I did have a question to ask you, though.” 

“Well, what is it?” 

He bit his lip. “Would you have lunch with me?” She waited for more. Blake’s head tilted. “I miss you.” 

Gwen’s heart jerked. “Are you serious?” 

He opened his mouth to say something but whatever it was going to be was just going to piss her off further. She cut him off before he even had the chance to begin. “You miss me and yet every time you see me you look as if I was the gum on the bottom of your forty thousand dollar suede shoes.” 

“That’s not fair. You told me--” 

“It doesn’t matter what I said. I can’t have lunch with you.” She turned away and busied herself with picking out fabrics for the dress. 

“When I want to have you, you tell me to stop. When I stop, you want me to have you. What do you want, honestly? Because you’re the one who took this job. You hate me for thirteen years and now you’re here working for my wife. You’re confusing the hell out of me, Gwen.” 

“I’m confusing? You want to have lunch with me, talk on the phone with me, and yet we’re  _ both  _ married. You come in here after a month of not even saying hi to me when I walk into a room but you want to go grab a meal like we’re buddies. I get that you don’t want to seem suspicious but you don’t have to act like an ass to do it.”

He walked over to the table until he stood in front of her. “I’m sorry. When you told me to back off I thought that’s what you wanted.” 

She sighed, running a shaky hand through her hair. “I don’t want to do this.” 

“Gwen, I said I was sorry.” 

“I know. And I told you to back off and then I didn’t like it when you did and now we’re here….” She took a second to gather her thoughts. “I took this job for me. I really did. I didn’t want to complicate anything but I have. So, I’m going to fix them.” 

“Gwen--” 

“Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come to my office and ask me to lunch. Don’t miss me. If this is gonna work, you have to pretend like you’re still on that plane thirteen years ago and I have to pretend like it didn’t tear me apart inside when I found out. I can do that. I know how to now.” 

She was asking him to let her go a second time. Something that wasn’t going to sit right for a man like Blake. But she didn’t care if it did. She stopped caring about his needs a long time ago. She wanted this job. She wanted the experience, the education, the critique, and the praise. She finally admitted to herself that she wanted what she could never get in Hawaii. 

Approval. 

Her work had always felt incomplete. Maybe because she wasn’t challenged enough, maybe because she never had something to elevate her vision. The world would be looking at her work now, and that was something she didn’t know she wanted--needed.

Just then, Koko came back into the office. Her smile was almost painful to see. The girl had probably never felt heartbreak in her life. Gwen envied her. 

Blake sniffed and sobered up when her assistant set the lunch down, talking about how Michael had given them a piece of chocolate cake to share as a thank you for the new chef jacket Gwen had sewed him. 

“I should head back. The world isn’t gonna save itself.” Blake said but hadn’t made a move to leave. Instead, he asked her, “You’re sure about this?” 

She was. “Absolutely.” 

She could see his heart turning. “Right.” With one last look in her direction, he turned around to bid Koko farewell. 

Gwen watched him go, only releasing a breath when his grey form had completely turned the corner of the hallway.

“What did he want?” Koko asked. 

“He actually wanted me to make him a personalized tie for the State of the Union Address. I told him we could make him a whole suit if he wanted.” She lied through her teeth.

Koko went on and on about how great that was. Gwen barely heard her through the fog in her mind. He’d taken off once again and she was just trying to find the air in her lungs to keep her landed.

Sometimes she thought how easy it would be to just let herself fly away. And then she saw the sun behind her closed eyes and knew she would eventually crash right into it and burn.

A month later, she was made into an icarus. The problem with her and Blake’s agreement to basically ignore one another had one little variable that they didn’t anticipate but should have seen coming. 

Josie. 

It started at Christmas and went on from there. The First Lady had, of course, invited her family to participate in all of the holiday festivities. Sometimes that meant that her and Blake were in a room full of a couple of hundred people, other times, it was just them and their spouses and kids. They were never left alone. Not until the designer was summoned one week to have lunch with her employer out on the terrace. She thought nothing of it, and actually enjoyed Josie’s company the more she got to know the woman. She was pleasant, perfect, a sweetheart, most of all. So when she stepped out into the backyard and saw the woman laughing candidly at something Blake had said, Gwen’s walls shot up and her chest struggled to move where it had been constricted, all of a sudden. 

She had sat down and ate what was already ordered for her. She talked and smiled and even let her guard down long enough to really enjoy Blake’s presence. Something she had not done in a long while. When Josie was needed for something in the House, Blake and her were left alone. At first, they said nothing. And then, he complimented her dress. It was like a floodgate had opened, allowing her to flatter him right back. He was wearing his glasses instead of contacts that day, and she loved that look on him. They got maybe ten minutes of polite conversation in before his wife returned. But ten minutes was all they needed to give that spark that always burned deep down in the both of them to fan itself into a small flame. 

From thereon, it seemed like the universe wanted them to have those small and private moments together because every time she came into work, expecting Koko to grab her lunch from the kitchen, she was invited to eat with Josie. Blake wasn’t there all the time, but when he was, they got to be by themselves. Sometimes for five minutes, others as long as thirty minutes.

She hated to admit that what they talked about changed from time to time. It got more intimate without them intending to. They told each other their fears, their aspirations still, their frustrations with work and homelife. It was like when Harry met Sally. They were able to tell each other things that they didn’t otherwise tell their other friends. 

It was nerve wracking. To think that just a month ago, she had told him to basically forget her existence, and now his existence was all she could think about when she closed her eyes at night to sleep, Wyatt’s arms wrapped around her. It only got worse from there. He’d stop by her office, sometimes just to say a quick hello in the morning before heading to the Oval. But the other times, he’d come in, sit down, and watch her work. He wouldn’t say anything unless she did. Koko had taken up a commarodorie with one of his secret service agents, Tom. She was never around when the President was and Gwen never thought to inquire about it. Today was one of those days that he felt like sitting and watching. She had stopped worrying about Josie and anyone else finding them like this because there was nothing to find. 

The dress designer was sewing the last of the First Lady’s State of the Union dress when she looked up briefly to find Blake’s eyes on her, always on her, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He was leaning one arm against the back of the couch, the tip of his thumb’s nail in between his white teeth. She grinned down at the fabric, hating the way she let herself become so comfortable around him.

“You really are talented, Stella.” 

He knew not to use that name but ever since they had gotten back to whatever this was, he had taken to calling her it again. “Lots of practice.” She replied.  

He hummed. His eyes burned her skin and she looked up to see the blue unflinching from her form. 

“Stop looking at me. You always look at me.” 

“I watch you.” 

“Same thing. Watch my hands, not my face.” 

He said nothing in return but after several minutes, when Gwen gathered the courage to look at him again, his eyes were downcasted. 

They stayed in relative silence. Gwen worked, he watched. She wondered how he could just sit there and do nothing and then that little voice inside her soul reminded her, that that’s love, and she threw the thought away immediately. 

Standing up after another fifteen minutes of her fingers cramping, she went to the small refreshment counter by the window and poured more tea in her mug. She looked outside for a second as she tore a sugar packet open, staring right where the sun was shining on the grass and flowers and smiled at the beaming rays. Squinting the next. 

She was vaguely aware of him standing up from the couch, vaguely heard his footsteps approach. She was pouring the sugar when his hand reached for hers. He clearly ignored the sharp diamond of her ring as it scratched his fingers, both physically and mentally. She slid her hand away, reaching for a spoon to stir the dissolved contents. He was having a lapse in judgement in that moment, so she was going to pretend that the brush of skin was accidental. 

When he stepped behind her, bracing an arm on either side of the counter, effectively trapping her, Gwen’s body tensed. He stepped closer. 

“Don’t.” She warned. 

His long arms circled her waist as he softly kissed the curve of her neck. She refused to lean into it, into him, but she didn't pull away either, and she hated herself for it. His lips slid from her neck to her shoulder, hands tightening around her small frame. She turned around abruptly to face him. He leaned in but Gwen pushed him back by the shoulders. He wouldn’t budge. 

Damn him. 

“Blake..” Her voice was barely a whisper as she quietly pleaded with him, afraid that if she spoke any louder, Koko or one of his agents, or  _ someone  _ would hear and barge right in. 

He knew better than to kiss her on the mouth, because his lips went right back to the side of her neck. Her head dropped back, and she couldn’t understand for the life of her why his touch felt so good. He kept doing it. Just soft kisses, never a hint of tongue, or suction, or bite. Gwen slid her hands through his hair and Blake pressed her body closer to his. Her breath became shallow as she felt every inch of him. The unmistakable feeling of his stiffening member should have been the thing to make her finally pull away but she was ashamed to find out that it was the arrival of the man’s wife that did it. 

They were in the drawing room, the door was closed, but she heard the woman talking to Koko before the doors opened. Blake had already jumped to the other side of the room, as far away from her as possible. He sat back down on the couch, crossed his legs at his ankle, and pretended to be in conversation while she made herself a cup of tea. 

What the  _ fuck _ . She turned back around and opened another sugar packet even though she only liked one in her drink. 

“Oh. Honey, what are you doing here?” Josie was genuinely surprised to see her husband. 

Blake smiled at the mother of his children. “I wanted to see how my suit was coming along. I especially wanted to see the tie.” 

Gwen never worked on his clothes on the days that he stayed to watch her. She had wanted them to be a surprise. “Which I told him that I wasn’t going to show him until the day of. Speaking of which, you shouldn’t be in here either because your dress is a surprise too.” She lied like she was breathing and moved to stand in front of the dress in question. 

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve already seen it and you are gonna look amazing.” Blake complimented both women in just that one sentence and Gwen wanted to stab him with her spoon. 

Josie laughed beautifully. Blake stood up and walked over to her, kissing her with the same lips that touched her skin just seconds ago. “I only stopped by to see how the suit was coming along. I gotta get back to the office.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you for dinner.” Josie kissed him one more time and patted his chest as he headed for the door.

He hadn’t even turned around to give her one last fleeting look. When they say that the wife gets all of the man and the mistress is left with the scraps, they weren’t joking.

_ You’re not a mistress. That man has nothing of you that you haven’t given him. He has nothing because you have given him nothing. He has taken nothing. You’re better than this. This is to never happen again. You aren’t this type of person.  _

She kept repeating the mantra even as she talked more dress designs with Josie out in the lounge that Koko had sort of made out of her receptionist area. Gwen twisted her wedding ring as the First Lady looked through the fabric and color book. She sipped at her tea. 

It was exceptionally bitter.

 

=

 

Gwen didn’t walk the halls of the West Wing. Ever. She had no need to except for today. She had a meeting with the President’s Chief of Staff. Koko had only told her that it was clothing related and Gwen drew her conclusions from there. She didn’t normally make men’s clothes. She knew how, but it just wasn’t her normal clientele. Not that she was complaining. She started off just making the First Lady’s clothes, now the President, and then for Mr. Young--hopefully. 

As she ventured further into crazy land with all these important people walking around her as if they were going to save the world, Gwen looked down at her phone, having chimed from a message. It was from Lani, reminding her that she had a lacrosse game at four. She noted it in her calender with a reminder alert and turned the corner. She looked away from her phone at the precise moment that he saw her, just as he was walking down the same hallway. 

“Stella.” He stopped for a brief second, expecting her to. And Gwen did pause before she realized what a bad idea it was to talk to him, how much she really didn't want to at the moment. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks, ever since the Josie interruption in the drawing room. She had nothing to say to him that was appropriate for a lower rung employee to say to the President of the United States. She had finally learned her place and she was staying there no matter what he said or did. 

Blake followed after her as she continued to walk away from the situation. He caught up to her quickly. “I haven’t seen you.” 

She stopped going to lunches with him and his wife. The invitation would come everyday and everyday she would decline politely, sending her assistant to mingle on her behalf instead. 

“I’m busy.” She replied. 

He walked beside her now. “I’m busy too. However, I’m not sending my aids to lunches in an attempt to avoid you.” 

“I’m busy.” She repeated again, in the kindest voice she could muster. 

“Gwen.” He leaned in closer to her as they rounded another corner. “I miss you.” The tip of his nose touched the top of her head. 

She wasn’t fazed. “You didn’t even turn around. You kissed her and didn’t give one thought about me.” 

They both were looking ahead, not at each other as they walked. “I didn’t have a choice.” 

“I don’t know what you expect. I don’t want to be in this.” He looked at her suddenly. “This--I am not this person.”

“Look.” He stopped right in front of her as they reached a little corner. “I know this is difficult. I know I made it difficult--” 

“Difficult--” She cut him off right as he returned the favor, clearing his throat as a couple of White House staff members walked past them. He smiled at the two men until they were out of earshot. 

Gwen continued when they were gone. “Somehow, I’ve become this person who--I have no words.” She couldn’t even find what she wanted to say, what she wanted him to understand about the situation, about how he made her feel. 

Gwen moved to walk past him, done with the conversation as a whole, but Blake blocked her with his shoulder. “We were together, finally.” She saw the desperation and confusion written underneath his frown. “That’s all that matters.” 

She looked affronted. “Really? Because I’m feeling a little, I don’t know, Lucy Mercer/Franklin Roosevelt about all this.” 

Now he was the one to look insulted. 

“I have to go.” She did push past him this time. 

“Stella.” He called her back. 

She turned around. “I have to go. I have a meeting with Charlie.” She left him standing there, probably speechless, most likely pissed. But she didn’t have time to worry about him when she was too busy worried about herself and her future there at the White House.

She wouldn’t have one if she continued down this path with him. She was already too close to the sun. If she kept pushing, she’d find herself falling at a pace not even she could come back from.

This wasn’t her. She wasn’t raised to be this person. She wasn’t raising her kids to be this person so why did she think that she could act this way? She knew why. You let a person take control of the plane and you put your life in their hands. 

Gwen needed to get back into the pilot’s seat. She needed to chart a new course. 

Easier said than done.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just know we will have a happy ending, but this story is LONG. Gonna take awhile to get there. This chapter really sets up the second plot for this story. 
> 
> I've put pictures of the clothes they wear in this chapter. Gold is Blake and Josie. Pink is Gwen. 
> 
> Enjoy!

  
  


 

“How does someone decline an invitation for a photo op with the President?” Gregory asked. 

The White House Communications Director weaved through a swarm of employees as he walked with Alaina, the White House Press Secretary, to the Oval office.  

“Well, this week hasn’t exactly gone our way. I mean I’ve never seen the President this moody and the State of the Union is in three days.” Alaina voiced.

“He’s not moody. He’s a grown ass man not a teenage girl with mood swings.”

“See that’s just sexist, Greg.” 

He smirked and opened the door to Andrea’s office. “Andrea does the President have free time this morning?” 

The secretary was seated at her desk, typing away on her computer. She didn’t even glance up when they walked in. “He has nothing but free time, Gregory. Right now he’s in the residence eating frosted flakes and enjoying  _ Kathie Lee and Hoda.  _ Shall I get him for you?” The young woman asked sarcastically, sparing him a look out of the corner of her eye. 

Gregory knew that when the President was in a bad mood, it seemed the entire office was. He just hoped President Shelton wouldn’t snap at him like he did poor Sean from logistics, last week.

“Sarcasm’s a disturbing thing coming from a woman your age, Andrea.” He bit back at the private secretary.

“And what age would that be, Greg?” She asked, staring into his soul. 

He knew that as much as they bantered, truly getting on Andrea’s bad side was the end of his happy days there at the White House. She could make his job a living hell if she wanted to, all because she had the President in the palm of her hand. 

“You don’t look a day over nineteen.” 

“Attaboy.” She went back to her screen and Gregory looked down at the container of sweets perched at the end of her desk. 

“Can I have a cookie?” He took the lid off, expecting the answer to be yes. 

“No.” 

He made a face just as his name was called. 

“Greg, they turned down our request?” Sam, his Deputy, came barreling in, asking. 

“It’s not been our week.” He quoted Alaina. 

“Morning, Sam.” Andrea greeted, kindly. 

“Morning.” He smiled. 

“Have a cookie.” She offered him. 

“Thank you.” 

Gregory watched on as Sam plucked a cookie from the top of the jar and took a large bite. He gave a shitty look to Andrea which she pointedly ignored. 

“We’re gonna have a press release about this. We’ll be playing defense all day.” Alaina voiced, glasses perched on her face as she read through a report that was just handed to her by Penelope. 

“Where’s Charlie? I’m sure he’s tearing his hair out. He loves golf.” Sam asked, crumbs spilling from his mouth. 

“Outside on the terrace with Blake.” Andrea answered on reflex. 

“You know you’re the only one who can call the boss man by his first name. Besides Charlie, of course.” McCain noted.  

Andrea gave a fake smile and waved a hand for them to go through into the Oval, if not to get them out of her hair. 

Just as they were filing in, the President and Chief of Staff were coming in from outside. 

“They’re gonna back out on the trade surplus.” Charlie was just saying to the President. 

“That’s shit negotiating. Francisco knows that’s shit.”  

“Mostly he’s going to say that the Japanese need to buy more American cars.” 

“Americans need to buy more American cars.” President Shelton responded, setting his glass of moscow mule down with the file he had in his hands. 

“That’s what I told him.” 

The president sighed and put on his glasses. That meant it was a bad day whenever he couldn’t even summon the energy to put his contacts in. 

“Morning, everyone.” He addressed the room. The staff greeted him quietly. “What’s wrong with the world today that wasn’t wrong yesterday?” 

“478 is going to stay in committee.” McCain began. 

“I heard. What else?” 

Alaina prepared herself to be the bearer of bad news. “The Ryder Cup Team declined our invitation to come to the White House.” 

Charlie looked about ready to pop a vein in his forehead. “You’re shitting me.” 

“Because of the joke.” She continued. 

“You’re joking.” The President spoke. 

“I’m not, Sir.” 

“The Ryder Cup Team?” He asked for clarity.

“It’s a group of the best golfers in the--” 

“I know what the Ryder Cup Team is.” The President was handed a binder by Penelope.

“Sir, if I may. This could be a good time to talk about your attitude toward the sport--” 

President Shelton walked around the front of his desk to stand in front of his Press Secretary. “I have an intelligence briefing, a security briefing, and a 90-minute budget meeting all scheduled for the same forty-five minutes. You’re absolutely positive that this is a good time to talk?” He removed his glasses, and the height of their leader, the hostility that rolled off of him in waves, was actually the scariest thing that the aids could have been privy to in their adult life.

“No, Sir.” Alaina answered, quietly. 

“Me either.” He agreed, walking past her to sit down on the sofa. He crossed his legs and ignored the silence in the room that he no doubt created with his less than approachable attitude. 

“You know what I need?” Blake voiced. “I need someone to convince the First Lady that inviting my in-laws to the State of the Union Address is a threat to national security.” He tried to joke but there were no takers. 

“No one? Twenty lawyers in the room and no one wants to take this on? Charlie?” 

The Chief of Staff cleared his throat. “Your wife is scarier than you, Sir.” 

Blake chuckled to himself. “Have a seat, everyone. It’s gonna be a long morning.” 

 

=

 

Blake sighed as he felt hands run through his hair, lips kiss over the sensitive skin of his neck. He closed his eyes and tipped his head towards the ceiling.

“You work too hard.” Josie’s voice was gentle, like a warm blanket.

He hummed because she was right. 

“Take a bath with me.” She kissed the tip of his ear. 

“I wish I could but I’ve got to finish this.” He gestured to the mass of papers on the living room table. 

She pouted. “It’ll make you feel better...You’ve been, stressed out lately, more than before. We’ve all noticed.”

“Comes with the pension, Jo. Seriously, I’m fine. You go enjoy a bath to yourself. Have Valerie bring you up some wine and chocolate.” 

“Valerie is for our kids, not me. Which by the way, you should spend some more time with the boys. They miss you.”

“Okay.” He stretched away from her touch and leaned down to grab another budget report. 

His sudden change in attitude to her worked because she sighed and left the room with one last lingering look. Blake ran a hand through his disheveled hair and laid against the back of the couch. His mind was racing miles and his body, physically, couldn’t keep up. He had thoughts of the boys, how his interactions with them were at breakfast and maybe dinner if he had the appetite to stomach eating with his family. He was neglecting them emotionally and that all too familiar shame crept up his spine and took hold. He was paralyzed most days by it. He had to do better. He had to do better in a lot of areas in his life. 

The office was a mess. Another thought that took hold and wouldn’t let him go. He knew his workers were keeping him afloat but he was their leader, he had to step up and stop pissing around over some hurt feelings and a woman that wasn’t his wife. 

That thought led into dangerous territory, territory where Josie didn’t hold a candle to Gwen and he wished he had more respect for the mother of his children to change his mind--change his heart.

He had fell for her, again.

Fuck. He could hear Brad laughing at him now. 

So stupid. It was all his fault. He told Josie to have lunch with Gwen, if not for the company since his wife often ate alone, for the companionship between the two women. He knew he hurt Gwen when he treated her like she wasn’t even alive to him. He tried to make up for it by showing her that him and his wife were on the same playing field for him. She wasn’t non existent to him. He took it a step further by joining the women once in awhile. That had turned into more lunches, with him making sure to schedule meetings and work around lunch hours. Sometimes, it worked. Other times, Blake just couldn’t get away. But the times that he was successful, he was rewarded with a couple of minutes of alone time with Gwen. 

He hadn’t planned that part. Talking to her again, getting to know her, allowing them to reconnect in a way that they hadn’t experienced since the first time they met. He loved every moment. He fell deeper every second, every detail, every word. It’s why he started going to her office. To just sit there and watch her in her element was the best part of his days. She was stunning, and she didn’t even have to try. Imperfect she was. 

To put it simply, he was in love. Just like that, he was in love with her again. 

He should have kept it to himself that day. He shouldn’t have touched her hand, kissed her neck, pressed his body into hers because it only reaffirmed what he already knew. 

He loved her. 

He was cheating. He was lying. He was ruining his relationships, slowly, one by one, but it didn’t matter because he was in love. Right? 

It didn’t matter that Gwen wouldn’t talk to him, that he hadn’t seen her for a whole week. He’d stop by her office but she wasn’t there, each time, she was gone. And each time, he’d smile sadly to himself and walk back to his wing of the house. But he was in love. That was the most important thing. He hurt this bad because he felt alive again, truly alive, like his skin was too raw, his heart much too young to handle such a thing as love. She did that for him. 

She did that  _ to  _ him. 

 

=

 

Blake stared at himself in the full length mirror. Running sure hands down his suit, Blake looked upon the sleek matte black of the material. It was slim and well-tailored, hugging his thighs and biceps in all the most flattering ways. But the real kicker was the tie. It was a splash of goldenrod and pink pastel paisley print atop a pinstriped oxford. Gwen even made a matching Hankie to go with it. He didn’t think he’d be able to wear such a thing at the Address, considering it was tradition to wear blue or red depending on the affiliated party. But the media had nothing but high praise for Josie’s fashion choices ever since Gwen came into their lives. His wife’s dress was gold as well, so at least they’d be matching.

“Turn around.” 

Blake looked away from his reflection and into Jo’s eyes. She pinned the American flag on his lapel. “Gwen really did such an amazing with these. We look like royalty.” 

Blake attempted to smile. “You are a vision.” He complimented. 

“Daddy. Daddy, look!” Teddy came in bouncing in his little tuxedo. 

Josie allowed them an hour, two hours tops, to join in the festivities after he would give his address. Him and Jackson were dressed to the nines just in case they had to take any photos. 

His youngest pulled down his vest and jacket, smiling cutely up at his parents. He did a little twirl to show off his get up. 

“Teddy, you look so handsome.” Josie leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“Dad, can I wear some of your cufflinks?” Jackson came into the room, asking. 

Blake nodded. “Go pick out a silver pair.” 

His oldest skipped over to the jewelry compartment that one of his aids had retrieved from the House and looked through the selection.

“Can you put them on him? I have to go check a few things over with Charlie.”

Josie nodded and kissed his cheek as he left the room, carding a hand through Teddy’s hair as he did. Once outside, he greeted Frank and Tom. They walked through the halls of the Capitol until he arrived outside another room. Charlie was waiting for him with his husband, Marcus. 

“Nice to see you Marc.” Blake shook his hand, pulling him into a side hug. 

“Always a pleasure, Blake.” 

“We’ll run through the seating chart and then look over the speech one more time.” Charlie said, getting right down to work. 

“Sounds good. I’ll pour the drinks.” He said, as all three men walked into the office. 

He was called to the stage approximately twenty minutes later. Blake felt better after the last read through, making sure nothing was left out as he was getting ready to inform the American people of his administration’s view of the state of the nation and their plans for legislation. 

When he arrived to the House Chamber, he got a touch up on his makeup for the cameras and then proceeded to walk out to the podium where he would deliver his address. This part was always fun for Blake. He’d block out all the rest of the people in the room, and only speak to the millions sitting at home, eyes glued to their televisions. 

The speech was a fine one. His writers did an amazing job. And by the end of it, Blake took a deep breath and relished in the thunderous applause. He was led off stage and given a glass of water. 

“The best yet, Sir.” Charlie praised him. 

His Vice President clapped him on the back. “And that’s how you do it.” 

Blake pulled Luke into a hug. “Save me some beer at the dinner.” He told him. 

The Vice President waved him off as he headed for his car to take him back to the White House where the reception would be hosted. 

“Sir, did you want to make your entrance with the rest of the First Family?” One of the aids asked him. 

“My wife would have my ass if I didn’t.” 

He took the Presidential limo back by himself, thanking God that Josie wanted to ride with the kids separately so that they could beat the traffic. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, hating the way he couldn’t enjoy anything anymore. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. 

Once back at the White House again, Blake was taken to one of the briefing rooms where him and the kids waited until all the guests were seated and settled inside the ballroom. Josie came in right as they were called out and she wrapped her arm around his as they each held onto one kid. She was holding Teddy on her hip as Blake held Jackson’s hand. 

The doors opened in a flourish and they were greeted by a couple hundred smiles. The applause was deafening. Josie released his arm so that he could wave to the mass of politicians and party members. His arm felt heavy and awkward as he moved it but he knew how to hide it well. 

“We’re over here.” Charlie came in behind them, leading the First Family over to their table. 

Blake was restless the entire time, even as dinner was served. Dessert was next, then wine, then champagne. He drank a beer discreetly because he wasn’t much of a wine person. If he could sit there and pretend like he wasn’t off in some other world, then he could make it through the rest of the reception. But then the time of the night when dancing was permitted and even encouraged crept up on the Leader of the Free World, and Josie begged him to take her out on the floor at least once that night. 

He regretfully let her drag him to the middle of the room. They were the only ones dancing at first, and Blake firmly kept his gaze down so that he didn’t have to see eyes staring at the pair of them. Per custom, he danced with three other partners, one of them being Charlie, which instantly put him in better spirits. His Chief of Staff was very entertaining. At one point, Teddy begged to be held and threatened to cry if he wasn’t. Blake danced with the eight year old until the little boy actually fell asleep in his arms, his perfect face smooshed into the crook of his father’s neck and arch of his shoulder. 

The guests that saw the father and son duo awed and ate up every last bit of the sight of their leader being tender and affectionate with the little boy. Josie suggested they call it a night for the boys and Blake agreed. The parents excused themselves to put the kids to bed. They both took turns going to the other boy’s room and reading them a story. They hadn’t done that in awhile and Blake had to admit to himself that giving up those moments all for the idea of a life he’d never had any intention of living, would’ve been a huge mistake. But intention and desire were two very different things in his heart.

“They were really tired. It was a long day. For all of us.” Josie said right as they closed the bedroom doors at the same time. 

“I have a headache like you wouldn’t believe.” He replied. 

She grabbed his arm and ran a hand down his chest as they walked back to the ballroom. “You’re almost done.” 

He exhaled deeply, focusing on the way her touch soothed his pain. 

The ballroom was just as they left it. Alive, bright, loud. His temples pulsed. His brain short circuited. 

“Another dance?” His wife asked. 

“Jo, I’m tired.” 

“Please. Last one, I promise.” 

He was pulled by the wrist. He led her without much enthusiasm, only saved by the song coming to an end a minute later. He saw his way out when Josie gasped rather dramatically, leaving his arms. He turned to see her hug their couturier. 

Blake bit the inside of his cheek and tried, discreetly, to look Gwen up and down. She was wearing a pink colored dress, tall nude heels, with her hair straightened at the top, curled down at the ends. Her husband was standing next to her, decorated in his medals and a freshly pressed suit. 

“You outdid yourself. I kept telling Blake when Koko dropped them off this morning.” He could hear Josie saying as the two women held on to each other, tightly. Gwen was smiling widely, clearly affected by the praise. 

“You both look so amazing. It came together better than I thought it would.” 

Blake greeted Wyatt briefly as their wives talked to each other some more about colors and lace. 

“We should dance.” Josie interrupted a moment later, just as Blake and Wyatt where talking about being on camera, the former who having much more experience than he cared to admit. “And by dance I mean get my husband to stop being such a buzzkill. Wyatt would you…” She gestured for him to dance with her and the pilot was surprised yet no doubt honored to accompany the First Lady in a waltz.

That left him and Gwen staring at each other, oddly, at odds, forced to reconcile for the moment. Blake sighed and wrapped an arm around her back, lower than she would have liked, lower than he should have done. Gwen held onto his broad shoulder tightly and together, they danced in silence. He should have looked everywhere but at her but he couldn’t.

Her eyes, of what he could see of them, shoned the color of dampened soil in the summer. Her pale skin was brushed with makeups and blush that she didn’t need but brought out the sharp structure of her bones. The soft pink shade on her plump yet thin lips was the same color as her dress. The slight space between them allowed him to stare further down, to the top of her dress that ran straight across her chest, then near the top of her wasit where it tightened around her curves.

His eyes went back to her face and even though she wasn’t staring back, he kept looking upon her beautiful features because it gave him some relief, some hope. 

“Don’t look at me.” She murmured.

“How come?” He asked, eyes still roaming across cheekbones and eyelids. 

“Because everyone will know.” 

He looked over her shoulder. “I can’t not look at you.” 

“The song will be over in a minute.” Her gaze was firmly planted around the room as they turned in a small circle. 

He sighed. “This is ridiculous. If you were anyone else--” He didn’t finish the sentence. But he was right to. If she were anyone else, he’d be able to look at her without all the assumptions and judgments hanging over his head. “How did we get to here?” She remained stoic. “Dammit just look at me.” She wouldn’t budge.

“Look at me,” he whispered, the seriousness in just that one breath causing Gwen’s eyes to snap to his. 

Now that he had her attention, he didn’t know what to do with it. It was a rare moment when Gwen would listen to him, trust him, when she was angry or hurt. He wasn’t used to getting his way, not even when they were together all those years before. 

He waited for a beat too long because she snapped. “Stop it, we’re in public, look away.” She hissed.  

He obliged but leaned his head down so that she could hear him. “I know I don’t have the right. I know. I know you don’t trust me.” He glanced at her for a second but otherwise kept his eyes away from hers.

“I love you.” It was almost inaudible but she heard it. 

“Your wife is ten feet away.” 

“ _ I _ love you.” He repeated. 

“And thirteen years ago?” 

This time he couldn’t help but look in her in the eyes. “I. Love. You.” 

It was a stand off from there as she held his gaze and he hers. In the distance, the song’s end was drifting through the air but this was just a beginning for them. He was unmoved by the request in her eyes for him to stop, to look away, to let her go. He wouldn’t flinch under the pressure they were under. He loved her. She had to know that. She had to let them do  _ something  _ about it.

Gwen was the first to avert her gaze, facing the band so she could clap her praises. Blake tore his fixed look from her and applauded with the rest of the floor’s occupants. 

“Gwen.” He leaned down so that she could hear him.       

“That suit looks really good on you, Mr. President. I’m glad I could be a small part of this evening.” She attempted pleasantries, putting distance between them.

He sniffed. “And that dress is beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the woman wearing it.” 

She faced him, suddenly. “Just stop it. Okay? Please, stop.” She whispered-yelled at him.

He turned to face her. “What you said last week in the hallway--” 

“I don’t want to talk about that.” She looked past his shoulder and smiled to her husband, who was making her way over to them with the First Lady. 

“I haven’t been able to think about anything else. I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

“I have to use the restroom.” She said, just as their spouses arrived. “I’ll be right back.” She told Wyatt, kissing him chastely on the mouth. “Excuse me, Josie, Mr. President.”

Blake watched her weave through the crowds and leave the ballroom entirely. The restrooms were upstairs, she knew that from the first time she was here. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing as his headache throbbed harder. “I’m gonna go see if anyone has any advil for my head.” He spoke to Josie but was under the impression that Wyatt would hear. 

“Okay, I think Macie has some if you can find her.” 

He nodded and walked back to their table where Luke and Caroline, the Vice President’s wife, were enjoying a story from Charlie’s West Wing days when he was just an intern. Blake pretended like he was just grabbing some water, but he kept his eyes on his wife and Wyatt. The two continued to dance with one another but once their backs were turned away from him, he headed for the doors. He walked out into the hallway, where Frank was standing guard. Tom was inside, do doubt making his way to him as he stood there, not knowing what to do with himself.

“Which direction did she go in?” He asked the agent, just as the doors opened and Tom revealed his stoic face. 

“The garden, Sir.” Frank answered, knowing immediately who he was talking about. 

He walked off in the direction that he said, pacing the closer he got to the smell of roses. Once outside in the back of the house, Blake waved his detail aside, wanting them to stay behind as he spotted her pacing along the yard. He walked quietly to her glowing form, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“You never walk in grass in heels unless you’re about to cry. I’ve seen you do it one time and that’s when your father had a heart attack and you couldn’t get a flight out to California until the morning. You paced right outside in the grass at the airport. Cried for a solid ten minutes before asking me to take you home. Any other time you would go barefoot.” 

She turned around, her eyes filled to the brim with salty water, yet, there wasn’t a shedded tear in sight. “I’m not going down memory lane with you.”

“Then talk to me.” 

She smirked, viciously. “You wouldn’t like what I have to say.” 

“Fine. Then I’ll go first. The Lucy Mercer/Franklin Roosevelt comment was insulting.” 

“Because it’s so untrue?”

“You’re playing the boss card on the fact that I’m in love with you?” She scoffed and turned away from him. “Come on, Stella. Don’t belittle us.” 

She turned back around. “I didn’t say that to belittle us. I said it because you needed to hear it. You’ve got some fantasy playing out in your head where you’re the President, and I become your little mistress--” 

“Don’t call yourself that--” 

“And we’re just gonna have these feelings and hurt everyone we ever care about in the process.” 

He shook his head. “Me being in love with you isn’t hurting anyone but me. I carry that burden alone. And I’ve tried to tell you. I’ve tried to be with you--” 

“I am not yours to be with.” 

He dismissed the statement as soon as she said it. “You won’t talk to me. All you wanna do is say things that you know will piss me off. You’re trying to drive me away but I’m not going away--” 

“I don’t have to drive you away, you’re already away. You’re already out of my reach.” 

“I’m not.” 

She sighed, smiling ruefully at him the next moment, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re the President. You’re married. You have children. You have responsibilities and a duty to that office to not stain it with another sex scandal. You’re for the American people and your family. That’s it. You might be standing in front of me, Blake, but I can’t touch you. I can’t have you. I’d hate myself for it if I even tried.” 

“I don’t have to have sex with you to want you, Gwen.” 

She laughed, manically to herself. “But you’d have sex with her.” 

His face twisted into confusion. “So this is about Josie?” 

“No! No, this is--I work for her. I  _ like  _ her...but I smile in her face just as I’m thinking about taking my clothes off for you. I wait for you. I’m still waiting for you. You think you can just have me emotionally and all the physical needs are going to take care of themselves? It doesn’t work like that. We don’t work like that. You don’t carry this burden alone. I can’t make love to my husband without thinking of you. I can’t breathe on my own, knowing that we’re not in a good place. You control whether I can eat for the day, whether I can drink, whether I can sleep. Everything I do, I do with you in mind.  _ You _ own  _ me _ .  _ You _ control  _ me _ . I can’t escape you! I can’t have you, I can’t not have you, I can't love you, I can’t not love you--” 

“ _ You _ own  _ me _ .  _ You _ control  _ me _ . I belong to you! I can’t leave you. I can’t escape you...You think I don’t know we’re both married? That we both have children? You think I don’t wake up everyday with the world’s problems on my mind only to be laid at my feet every time I put a damn tie on and greet my Oval? You think I don’t know about the countless affairs that have happened right there on the same desk that I sign laws and legislation? I’m not looking for another sex scandal. I’m not jumping at the opportunity to fall into bed with you, no matter how much my dick thinks otherwise.” Blake took a deep breath. “I want to be able to walk into a room and you smile at me for once. I want the woman that I love to want to see me, to want to talk, and laugh, and not think about what we may or may not be doing to our families. It’s not a crime to want someone other than your partner, Gwen.” 

They breathed together for a long time, neither of them saying another word as the weight of previous revelations sat insistently in their minds and hearts. He was prepared to take it all back if she would just do that for him. Want him without needing everything and everyone else. But then she walked up to him, eyes betraying nothing as she leaned in and said the only thing she could to get him to backoff. 

“No. It’s not. But it is a pretty shitty thing to do.”

She brushed past him on her way back to the house. Blake stood there, not breathing, and not feeling--not thinking--for once. He didn’t think he could remain standing if he did. Because to breathe without her sharing the same air as him wasn’t enough to sustain his lungs. Because feeling that knife in his chest wasn’t going to keep his heart beating for much longer. Because thinking about her footsteps pointed in the opposite direction was nothing short of a metaphor for his entire life. 

It was a terrible thing. Letting others do what they wanted to you. But that wasn’t the lesson to take away from that night. Because it wasn’t a question of  _ what  _ people will do to each other. It’s what people  _ won’t  _ do to each other.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a flashback chapter. Will be updating again very soon. Thank you for your patience :)

“Hey.” 

Gwen turned her head around to see him walking through their front door. 

“You still awake?” He was smiling. It was probably the alcohol in his system. He had went out for drinks with a couple of his friends, no doubt expecting her to be asleep by the time he came home. Like normal. But she couldn’t stop her mind from racing long enough to just go to bed and not think of the contents on his phone. Of which she was holding tightly as she watched him take off his jacket and shoes. 

“Yup.” She replied, blinking away the tears in her eyes before he could see them. “How was tonight?”

“It was okay. How are you doing?” He leaned down to kiss her but she pulled away at the last second before their lips could touch. 

“I’m good. Just a little tired.” She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. 

Blake caught on to her sour mood quickly and stared at her dumbfounded. He sat down on the chaise next to the couch. “You all right?”

“Mhm.” She licked her lips. 

He stared, unconvinced, and began to speak,“Listen, I wanted--” 

“You left your phone here.” They began at the same time. 

Blake’s eyes immediately looked to the device in her hands. 

“Yeah.” She frowned. “You’re mother called. I told her you were out...And then Sarah texted.” 

“Right.” He responded, knowing exactly where she was going with this and Gwen couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. 

“Yeah, right. And I’m hoping that you have a really great explanation--” 

“It’s a complicated situation--” 

“--‘Cause I’m trying so desperately--” 

“It’s not what you think--” 

“--to give you the benefit of the doubt here.” 

“Can you just let me explain?”

“Try to explain.”

“I talked to the Captain. The other guys were giving her a hard time and he thought that I was the best guy to make her feel welcomed. I told him how you felt about her that one time after the bar--” 

“The Captain? Why does the Captain have to know anything about this? You could have just said no.” She stood up, frustrated. Blake reached out a hand to stop her from leaving but she pulled away. 

“Can you just stay here--” 

“Don’t touch me for a second, please. Just don’t.” 

He sighed and let her walk past him into the kitchen.

“You know, I’m literally sick to my stomach. Because you lied, Blake.” 

“Gwen.” 

“You lied to me.” Her voice rose.  

“I went out of my way to tell you about the kiss.” He half yelled, standing up. “I told you. You said you didn’t want me around her. I listened. But when my Captain tells me that one of our own is having a rough time, I have to step up and help--” 

She couldn’t believe her ears. “Why  _ did _ you tell me about the kiss?”

“Would you just listen to me, please?”

“Wait a second, answer me. Why did you tell me about the kiss?” 

“You rather I just lie about it? Listen to me, I took a phone call outside. I was talking to my father and she was there. She was drunk and babbling about how her boyfriend just broke up with her and I offered to cheer her up by buying her a drink--” 

“So you were drinking together. You didn’t tell me that part.” 

“I had one drink. She needed a friendly ear--” 

“Were you drunk?” 

“--and she had a lot. I wasn’t drunk! I didn’t kiss her! She kissed me!” 

“Did you stop the kiss?” 

“Yes!”

She nodded, scratching her nails down the length of her neck. “How?” She tilted her head to one side. “How did you do that? What did you do? You saw she was crying, you bought her a drink, she confessed to you how hurt she was, how much pain she was in...and she just kissed you? ...Go ahead, I want to hear this.” 

“It was loud in the bar.” He began.

“Okay.” 

He sighed. “Stella--” 

“Don’t call me that right now.” 

“It’s a difficult thing for me to explain, okay?” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, it is. It was loud and I had to lean in close to even hear her order a drink. Okay, so yes, it’s difficult.” 

She raised her walls. “It’s a really difficult thing for me--” 

“I had a conversation about how her boyfriend wasn’t any good for her if he couldn’t handle her going off to serve our country. And that she wasn’t gonna end up alone and that any guy would be lucky to have her because she’s--pretty--I don’t know what I said exactly--” He tried to recant the night of events as she walked away from him, back into the sitting room.  

“Do you think she’s pretty, Blake?”

He sighed harshly and closed his eyes, finding the energy to keep up with her.

“That’s what this is about, right?” She asked. 

“Please, don’t put words in my mouth.” 

“I’m not. I just don’t understand why you’re continuing to text her when you know how I feel about the entire thing. It doesn’t make any sense to me as to why you would flirt with this girl--” 

“I’m not flirting! I tried to tell the Captain no. He wouldn’t--just let me finish, okay?” 

Gwen sat down and Blake followed her down onto the couch. “I’m listening.” 

“She apologized for the kiss. She said that wasn’t like her and that she was just drunk and hurting and I was nice to her. And yes, was I close to her while we were sitting there--I could barely hear the girl. And when I thought that she had enough and that she should probably head home, I called her a car. I wanted to--I thought the right thing to do was to walk her outside and make sure she got in it okay. She was drunk.”

“Did you touch her? She needed help walking and you were the superhero swooping in to save the day?” 

“Yes, I did, I helped her outside because she would’ve been passed out in the bushes if I didn’t. I waited with her until the car arrived.”

“You waited? She’s twenty-six years old--” 

“She was drunk!” 

“It doesn’t matter!” She stood up, wiping at her face furiously as the tears fell onto the kitchen floor.

“Of course it matters! You don’t think I’d want the same for you? If a guy sees that you’re drunk and needs help, I’d want him to do exactly as I did. I was trying to do the right thing.” 

“Hurting me was the right thing to do, right?” 

“Gwen, I didn’t do anything!”

“You kissed another woman! We’ve been together for--” 

“I didn’t kiss another woman! She kissed me, Gwen! Listen to me. She kissed me, okay? I stopped the kiss. I put her in the car, and I came home. Stella--” 

“Are you attracted to her?” 

His eyes were wide and his breath was ragged. “No, I am not attracted to her.” 

“Don’t lie to me again, Blake. Are you attracted to her?” 

She could feel her face contort into a hopeless fountain of tears watching her boyfriend shake his head but say yes with his eyes. The moment of silence was too long for her to be mistaken, for him to continuing lying. 

“What do you want me to say, Gwen? She’s an attractive girl. Yes, I find her attractive.” His voice hadn’t lowered any since they’d begun yelling at each other and that made it all the more harder for her to stand there and listen to him. 

“I don’t want to hear anymore.” She voiced, quietly.

“I don’t want a relationship with her. I didn’t pursue her. I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t do anything.” 

Gwen could feel the muscles of her chin tremble. She looked up at him, his entire face blurry. “Are you attracted to me?” 

She couldn’t even stomach the courage to hear his late reply. He tried to come around the kitchen island but she walked to the other side. 

He exhaled, retracing his steps. “Yes, Gwen, of course I’m attracted to you.” His hands reached out to her body once he caught her but she pushed him away. 

“No, just don’t touch me. Please, don’t touch me.” 

“Can I please--will you just c’mere?” 

She pushed him away with all the strength she still had left in her body. Blake stood there, defeated and angry. 

“Stella…”

“How would you like it if the roles were reversed? You hate when the guys down at the beach even so much as  _ look  _ at me. How would you feel if another guy kissed me?” 

“I would understand if the situation was the same--” 

“You’re so full of shit.” 

“And you’re being unreasonable.” 

“Then get out.” 

He paused, the words hitting him at the last second. “Gwen--” 

“Get out!” 

He flinched and stared at her for a moment longer before moving the next second to grab his keys. “Fine.” 

“Don’t come back.” 

“I wasn’t plannin’ on it.” He put his shoes and jacket on. “But just remember you broke up with me over some girl I couldn’t give two shits about.”

“Right. You don’t care about her and yet that’s what this whole argument has been about. But just blame this all on me. Don’t take any responsibility for anything because it’s never your fault, right?”

He shook his head. “Fuck. Just give it rest, Gwen.” 

“Get out.” 

He finally obliged her and headed for the door, muttering underneath his breath. She started to ask him to say the words out loud, right to her face, even following after him before he could actually leave when she hit her foot on the edge of the living room table. Her toe was snagged and Gwen cried out in pain, doubling over. 

She sat on the ground and clutched her ankle, crying out in pain again when the pressure applied only served to hurt her further. She felt Blake lean over her but she pushed him away. He eventually left after she promised to go to the hospital. She could tell that he felt guilty, but it wasn’t his fault just because he happened to be there. Gwen knew he wanted to at least stay and help but she couldn’t stomach their fight any more than she could stomach the pain from her accident. He had to go so that she could breathe and when he finally did, Gwen went to the hospital herself. After an x-ray and some pain medicine, the diagnosis confirmed a clean fracture. 

She went home, foot snuggled in a boot. She didn’t even make it up the stairs as she laid right on her couch. As she stared up at the ceiling, she cried, not even knowing why. Her foot didn’t hurt all that bad, Blake was only gone because of her doing...there wasn’t anything to cry over that she didn’t do to herself. But she wouldn’t feel sorry for protecting her heart.   

She had already been down this road before. Before she met him, before she fell in love with him, before she allowed herself to dream of a future with him in it every day. She was not about to be made into a fool a second time. 

If only she’d known when she took him back several weeks later that she was going to be just that. 

A fool.

She’d have saved herself thirteen years. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second update of the day. Don't get confused. If you haven't read chapter 12, go do that! Another update coming soon. Thanks guys :)

Gwen frowned at the memory. She had to stop doing that. Remembering the past only made it that much difficult to live in the present, to think of herself in the future. 

As she stared at her kids running around the White House garden with the First Children, she couldn’t help but think about the man that made it possible for her to be there--for  _ them _ \--to be there. Blake was currently, gratefully, in the Oval doing whatever the President did. Josie was lying beside her in the other lawn chair. They were supposed to be catching some sun and enjoying the warm weather before it disappeared the next day to rain and clouds and cold winds. It was a freaky day, not just because of the weather, but the events that had transpired. She had woken up to news that her soon-to-be sister-in-law was pregnant. After hours spent over the phone gushing about the good news, her father had called her, telling her they were planning a trip out to Washington to see her and the kids. 

Gwen saw no reason for them not to come and gladly expressed her interest in the visit. She could use her mother’s cooking and her father’s calm and reassuring presence. Ever since the garden discussion, which was only a week ago, Gwen had been on edge. She had seen Blake multiple times after that night. Things weren’t tense but they weren’t exactly smooth between them. They had not discussed how the both of them being in love with each other again was going to affect life going forward. As far as Gwen was concerned, she’d love nothing more than to leave love in a corner for the rest of her life and live as if she hadn’t felt any of it in the first place. 

“I kind of want another smoothie. You?” Josie turned to her and asked, tilting her sunglasses down the slope of her perfect nose so that she could see Gwen’s face. 

The designer shrugged. “Why not?” 

That was the other thing that made that day so particularly weird for her. She had lunches with the First Lady, she enjoyed dinners with their families, but she had never relaxed or hung out without any formalities put in place beforehand with Josie. To lay there and pretend like she wasn’t going through an internal struggle with the woman’s husband was something very weird and absolutely crazy for her to live through. 

Gwen decided to not dwell on things that she couldn’t fix in the moment and instead returned her attention back to her kids. The children were playing with water guns and Manó was on a team with Jackson while Lani and Teddy partnered up. They were hiding and hitting each other everywhere in the garden. Gwen was very surprised to see her daughter participating, since she was only a fan of joining the rest of the world as a moody teenager. 

“Here you go.” Gwen looked up, accepting the offered glass of smoothie. 

“Thanks.” 

Josie went back to tanning and Gwen went back to thinking. There was so much on her mind that she didn’t know what to do with. Work, home, parents, brother, kids, Blake. But the distraction of yelling and laughter was welcomed even though all she really wanted was peace--no noise and no struggle. The quest for peace was only further disturbed by the arrival of the sole reason she couldn’t trust herself anymore for anything. 

Blake walked in his vintage glasgow, brown, tweed, suit across the lawn to them, only to be stopped by a splash of water right at the neck. It was shot by Manó, who thrusted his gun down in surprise and actual fear. Gwen was just about to yell at her son for getting the President wet when Blake leaned down in the grass and grabbed the extra water gun. He shot at the boys first and then to Lani who was surprised to be a target as well. From there, all hell broke loose and the garden was once again filled with screaming, giggling, children and one wet president, racing after each other, trying to get the last shot. Josie and Gwen smiled at the sight. 

“He’s so good with them.” Josie voiced. 

Gwen agreed. He was good with them. She never had a doubt in her mind that he would be. 

“Although, he’s ruining a perfectly handsome suit.” Josie added. 

Gwen couldn’t find it in herself to care about that. She was the first one to admit that certain clothes were meant to be for certain things but when it came to spontaneity, when it came to moments like these, no one in their right mind would put something so precious on hold to change into a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt. That was ridiculous. 

She looked back to the garden and saw that the water war had turned into a game of tag. Lani and Blake had teamed up together to catch the boys, the former managing to capture Jackson as they fumbled into the grass, laughing. Blake scooped up Teddy in one sweep and then Manó quickly there after, shouldering both boys in each arm. He mimicked fly patterns as he ran around and hoisted them into the air until they “crashed” into the ground. Blake went down first so that the boys landed on top of him, breaking their fall. Teddy and Manó were laughing, uncontrollably, even as Blake got up from underneath them and started a tickle fest. He eventually let up and their sons grabbed onto his legs, preventing him from leaving. Gwen watched as the President leaned down, ruffled their heads, prompting them to let go. He kissed both of them on the forehead when they did and turned around to make his way over to the women. He fake limped over to them, dramatising the act, but Josie nor Gwen, could stop themselves from laughing at the sight. 

“You shouldn’t laugh when people get hurt.” He whined as he drew closer, forgoing the limp so that he could make it to the empty chair beside Gwen where a tray of smoothies was left after Josie came back with extra the second time. 

“That will teach you not to play in the dirt.” Josie sipped her drink. 

Blake made a face at her when she wasn’t looking and Gwen hid her laugh behind the rim of her glass. Blake caught it and grinned, squinting when the sun shone directly in his eyes. 

Her heart fluttered. It was the first real moment without any yelling or tension that they had together since the night of the Address and she was ashamed to admit that what he said about wanting her to just walk into a room and be at peace with herself and the entire situation, was really all she wanted for herself as well. It felt nice not to be so guarded with him around. 

Blake grabbed a glass for himself and drank out of it quietly as he looked out at their children. “Jo.” He murmured after several minutes. 

His wife hummed. 

“Camp David is coming up.” 

Josie took off her sunglasses and sat up. “Oh my God. I totally forgot and you’re gonna kill me but I can’t come, honey. I’m sorry.” 

Blake frowned. “How come?” 

“Sicily’s baby shower is that weekend.”

He grimaced. “Can’t your sister just accept our present in the mail?” 

“No she can’t because I’m hosting it.” 

“Have Grace take over. She’d love to do it.” 

“Grace is coming up from Boston an hour before the party. Look, I know it sucks but I’ll make it up to you.” 

He sighed. “Then I’m not going.” 

Gwen felt a slight bit of awkwardness at having to be in the middle of the two, literally, as they talked to each other. 

“No, don’t not go because I can’t. You’ve done this every year and frankly, you need it.” 

“I’m not--” Blake was cut off by Jackson calling him over. He put a finger up, telling the boy to hold on for one second but then Jack complained that his gun was jammed. Blake sighed and headed over to fix the problem. 

Josie started speaking to Gwen then. “His mother died a few years back. Ever since he’s been in office, he goes on the weekend of the anniversary of her death up to Camp David to rest and relax. It’s one of the few times a year that he actually takes a break.” She explained. “Me and the kids go with him but this year I just can’t make it. I feel bad but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t go.” 

Gwen nodded, understanding, and processing the news of his mother. When they were dating, she had only spoken to the woman a handful of times. She was always so nice and welcoming. You could hear it in her voice, and even though Gwen had never met his mother, she felt like she already knew her. To hear of her passing was strangely a tough pill for her to swallow. She couldn’t imagine how Blake felt. She wondered when it happened and if it was during his first term, and if so, why she didn’t hear anything about it. 

Blake had handed off the gun to Jackson and walked back over to them. He sat down and drank some more of his smoothie. 

“Blake. I think you should still go.” Josie told him. He shook his head. “It will still be a wonderful time without me. You’ll have the boys and I’ll make sure Valerie looks after them so that you have some time to relax by yourself.” 

“It’s fine Jo.” He grumbled. 

The First Lady sighed and then gasped. “Why don’t you and your family go too? That way the boys have somebody to play with and you won’t have to go by yourself.” 

Gwen didn’t say anything for a second because she wasn’t aware that she was being talked to. When Josie’s words caught up to her, she immediately dismissed the horrible idea. “Oh no. No we can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because...because I’m not even sure that Wyatt can get out of work. I’d have to take the kids too and that won’t be much of a relaxing vacation for the President.”

Blake shifted beside her. 

“Nonsense. Blake loves to take the boys fishing and hunting up there. He’d enjoy all the activities I don’t like to do while there with all of the children. Especially, if your husband does go. And even if he can’t, you should go still. I’ve been meaning to give you a break and you can look at this like a mini vacation. Blake can show you the spa area that I had put up there. There’s a lot to do that you would love, trust me. And since he does do some minor work, you’ll be so busy with the kids, you won’t have time to be bored.” 

“Josie, that’s...I really don’t think I could--”

“She doesn’t want to go Josie. Just give it a rest.” Blake said, annoyed. 

The First Lady’s face fell and Gwen could really see that she was really excited for her and her family to go, wanting to give Gwen the time off. That genuineness was what always got her and Gwen sighed. 

“I can ask Wyatt and see where that goes. It’s not a definite but it’s not a no.” 

“You’re gonna love it! I didn’t think so my first time but it’s actually really good to just be out in the middle of nowhere.” Josie chatted to her, excitedly, for the next twenty minutes. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Blake staring at the two of them with a baffled expression. 

Eventually, he was called away and back to the Oval. Gwen let out a breath, watching his retreating back. Very soon after that, the kids and them all ate a little snack before Gwen had to head home. 

She started on dinner while Lani and Manó watched a television show in the living room. She was just putting the french bread into the oven, the last thing to be made before dinner was officially ready, when Wyatt came through the front door. He greeted her with a kiss to the neck and a soft hello. She smiled. 

“Dinner will be done by the time you get out of the shower.” She told him.

He nodded and walked into their bedroom. Gwen poured herself a glass of wine and sat at the kitchen island, watching the stove’s timer decrease by the second. Eventually, when she heard the shower water stop, she ventured into the bedroom and sat on the bed. The bathroom door was open and Wyatt stood in the mirror, combing his hair back with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“So. I need to ask you something.” Gwen began. 

He didn’t even jump at the sound of her voice, as if he had already sensed her presence when she walked in. “If it’s about your parents, I already told Lani she’d have to give up her bedroom while they visited.”

Gwen shook her head. “No, that’s not it.” 

Wyatt frowned. “What’s wrong? You sound like you’re about to tell me our dog died when we don’t even have a dog.” 

She laughed despite herself. “Josie asked us to go to Camp David on the weekend of the fifteenth.” 

“Really? That was nice of her.” 

“Yeah, it was.” 

“Well, you and the kids can go. I have a post out that weekend.” 

Gwen slumped her shoulders. She was hoping he’d be able to come. 

“Don’t look so put out. I’m sure you and Josie will still have your girl fun without me.” 

She bit her tongue. “Well, Josie isn’t going either. Her sister is having a baby shower that weekend. It’s why she invited us because Bl--The President would be up there by himself if she couldn’t come. She thought you and him could hangout while I looked after all the kids and enjoyed some time off myself.” 

“Oh.” He frowned. “Well…” 

“Well what?” 

He set his comb down and walked out of the bathroom. “Why is it so important that he go if his wife and kids won’t be there?” 

“Josie said that he went every year on the weekend of the anniversary of his mother’s death. I guess to just get away for a little bit and relax since he rarely does.” 

That changed Wyatt’s entire mood instantly. “Oh. Man, I can’t even imagine losing one of my parents. At least, not yet.”

She nodded. “I feel bad.” 

Wyatt sat on the bed next to her and grabbed her hand. “I think you should go.” 

“Really?” 

He nodded.

“I mean, it would be weird right? Just me and the kids with him and his sons.” Gwen was genuinely looking at the situation from her husband’s standpoint and liking it less and less. 

“Yeah but maybe it’s a chance for you to get to know him, at least a little. He is the Leader of the Free World and how many people get a chance to say that they actually know the guy personally? And besides, he seems pretty great to me what with the little conversations that do have.” 

Gwen wanted to face palm. “You’re just saying that because you voted for the guy.” She tried for humor to distract herself from the fact that she was an awful person. 

Wyatt chuckled. “Maybe but still. It could be fun. I hear Camp David is very nice this time of the year. And you know Manó would love to see the stars out in that open sky. Lani would trip over herself being surrounded by all that nature.” 

Gwen smiled. Their kids  _ would _ love it if they went. She swallowed, trying not to be disgusted with herself for trying to justify spending a weekend semi alone with Blake because of her kids. 

“You really wouldn’t mind if we went?” 

Wyatt leaned into her and kissed her temple. “Go. Enjoy yourself. You deserve a break.” 

“Well, so do you.” 

“Honey. The house being empty for an entire weekend? That  _ is _ a break.”

She punched him in the shoulder. Wyatt laughed as he stood up and disappeared into the closet. Gwen smiled at his retreating back. 

She didn’t deserve him. She loved him completely. But she didn’t deserve him. Gwen stood up as well and went back to the kitchen, arriving just in time to turn the timer off and take the bread out. 

They ate dinner as a family that night and watched a movie. When it was over, Wyatt carried a sleeping Manó to his bed and Gwen softly woke Lani and walked her to her own. She kissed her daughter tenderly on the cheek and shut her door quietly. 

Back in their bedroom, Wyatt was already tucked into his side of the bed, eyes resting and opening when he heard her enter. She stayed by the door and smiled at him. 

“You coming?” He asked her. 

“I think I’m gonna sketch for a little bit. I’ve got this idea of a ball gown and I want to get it down on paper before I forget it.”

“Okay. Go get it, killer.”

Her heart fluttered. “Don’t wait up.” 

“Me? Never.” He grinned. 

Gwen blew him a kiss. “Night.” 

He gave her the peace sign and rolled over in the bed, his back facing away from her. Gwen smiled, sadly. She really didn’t deserve him. 

The designer went to her drawing room and sat down at her desk. She drew for a about ten minutes before she gave up. She had the idea but she didn’t have the right mindset to flesh it out. Her brain was filled with too much shit she really could’ve done without. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed at her eyes. The one thing she loved about her little home office was that it had a large window behind her desk, giving her a beautiful view of the city down below. Gwen swiveled her chair around and gazed down at the lights. She could see how many people were still up at the hour and it comforted her to know that she wasn’t the only one with demons keeping her up late at night. 

The landline ringing caught her off guard. She picked up the receiver to make the loud noise stop in the otherwise silent apartment but didn’t bring the phone up to her ear. She couldn’t even imagine who would be calling their home at this time of the night and she had half a mind to set the phone back down. But curiosity got the better of her, loneliness got the better of her, and she put the phone up to her ear, saying, “Hello?” 

“You should be asleep.” 

She rolled her eyes at the sound of his voice. “Then why are you calling me?” 

“Because the Camp David situation won’t leave me alone.” 

She sighed. “How did you even get this number?” 

“Really? How did I get your phone number in Hawaii?” Blake asked, rhetorically. 

Fair point, she thought. “Josie was just trying to be nice to me.” 

“You shouldn’t come if you don’t want to.” He said. 

“...How come I didn’t know about your mother?” 

There was a brief pause. “The world watches me when I’m stressed out, when I’m happy, when I’m working, and even when I’m taking a day off. I wasn’t about to let them watch me grieve. Not with that. Not when it came to her.” 

She swallowed roughly. “I’m sorry, Blake.” 

“I know.” 

“I wish I’d met her.” 

“Me too.” 

She bit her nail and swiveled back around to look out the window, twirling the phone cord around her finger. “It’s shitty of me to think I can go and not feel like I’m betraying Wyatt.” 

“It’s shitty of me to love you and not think I’m betraying Josie.” 

“So we’re agreeing that we’re both shitty people?” She asked, teasing. 

“I’d rather be that than not in love with you at all.” 

Her breath caught. “Wyatt wants me and the kids to go.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want my marriage.” 

His breath was slowed. 

“But I also want to go.” She said. 

“Then come.” 

“I don’t think I should.” 

“Then don’t.” 

She smiled into the phone. “But you want me to.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

She sighed. “It’s just that easy.” 

“Nothing easy was ever simple.” He reminded her. 

She pondered his words for a minute, watching as, one by one, lights would go out in a flicker around the city the later it got. She saw the lights go out in the apartment window next to theirs. It was symbolic, a perfect metaphor for them. 

Her own would stay on all night, all the time. It was another metaphor. Because when it came to them, all they needed was one. 

All it ever took was one.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter for your patience. things are heating up here. trust the process.

Her heels sunk into the damp grass as she exited the car. Her brown eyes were alight with the sun’s morning rays. All around them were different types of deciduous trees in the woodland. The rolling hills and streams connected into one beautiful scenic vision. She had her reservations but whatever she might still be unsure about would completely be upstaged by the stunning nature that currently surrounded her. She liked it here. The air had more warmth and more fragrance. It was breathable. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Howlett. My name is Leila. I’ve been directed to oversee your stay here at Camp David per the President’s orders. If you or your children need or want anything, I’m your girl.” The dark-haired woman smiled prettily at her. “If you all will follow me. This is the Aspen Cabin. It will be yours for the entire weekend. Just above the hill is the main cabin where the President and his aides can be found. Golf carts are available and are a suitable transportation to take you there or anywhere around the grounds that you wish to go. All the staff and security ask is that you clear it with your detail so that they can clear it with the ground agents for safe and smooth travel.” 

Gwen nodded along, trying her best to listen as she looked at her surroundings. Manó and Lani were beside her, too in awe to wander off by themselves just yet. Leila held the door open to their cabin and they walked inside to reveal a mediterranean style decor; from the terracotta tiles, to the high ceilings, and the paintings that pictured the Balearic Isles. There was so much light and openness and the colors were straight from a palate of a beach, every shade from golden sand and rich wood. 

“There are six bedrooms so I’m sure the kids would love to pick out their own.” Leila informed the family. 

Her children looked up at her excitedly and she couldn’t even think of teasing them in a moment like this. She nodded, giving them permission to go running up and down the cabin. They raced each other in an instant. 

“This is beautiful.” She said to the aid. 

Leila grinned. “President Shelton thought the kids would like this cabin the best.” 

Gwen’s eyebrows raised. “Did he?” 

Leila nodded. “He’s excited that you agreed to come. While we’re all missing the First Lady…” The aid trailed off as if to convey that the employees of Camp David felt anything other than the loss of Josie’s absence. Gwen couldn’t help but smile cheekily at the young woman. She liked her. “We are also very glad to have some new visitors around.” 

“Thank you.” Gwen said, kindly. 

Leila clapped her hands. “Well, then. I’ll let you get settled in. A couple more things. Breakfast is brought to your cabin every morning and lunch is served at noon every day. Dinner is at five and you’ll be eating in the main cabin.” 

“Anything else?” Gwen jokingly asked.

Leila smiled. “I know it’s a lot at first but we keep a tight schedule to accommodate the President. That should be it for now. If you have any questions, my number is on the side table over there by the door. My cabin is just down the hill if there’s an emergency.” 

Gwen nodded. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Howlett.” Leila shook her hand and exited the cabin in a flourish. 

The designer took a deep breath and stood where she was to just take in her new environment. She was floating around in a space between past and future and liking the haze-like state the open air provided her. When she heard a crash from upstairs, she came back to the present.

“Lani did it!” 

“Shut up, tattle tale!” 

Her kids screamed from the second level. Gwen shook her head and ascended the stairs to see what damage her kids had already done.

 

=

 

“Teddy!” 

“Manó!” 

“Jackson!” 

Lani groaned at all the yelling. Gwen smirked and wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders as they walked further into the main cabin. The First Children had already set up camp in the sitting room. A plethora of toys and a gigantic train set sat in the middle of the floor, encased by plush furniture. 

Gwen’s son went running to greet his friends while Lani pulled away from her, eyeing a window seat off to the far corner. She loved to take pictures of nature and the view from the main cabin had a perfect lookout over the roaring river down below. 

“You must be Gwen.”

The designer turned around, scrunching her face in brief confusion. The man that was approaching her was unfamiliar, yet recognizable. She thought she knew him from somewhere and figured it out immediately when he introduced himself. 

“Beau Williams Bryan. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Blake told me you were coming up for the weekend.” 

Gwen shook the Vice President’s son’s hand with a wide smile. “The First Lady invited my family. It looked to be too good of a mini vacation to pass up.” 

Beau smiled. “I know how you feel. Anytime I get an invite I run at the chance to clear my schedule.” 

“What exactly are you doing here?” Gwen paused and tried again, “Sorry that came out wrong. I just meant--” 

Beau laughed. “It’s okay. I’m here to help The President with his decision on the Carter Bill.” 

“Oh.” 

The twenty something year old smirked. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?” 

She shook her head in a bashful manner. “I know enough to make informed decisions about my kids schooling and my taxes but that’s about it.” 

“That’s okay. It’s not really in the public eye right now anyways. But the man himself invited me out here to get some work and hunting done. I couldn’t refuse.” 

She nodded. “I thought he didn’t work on this weekend?” 

Beau shrugged. “I feel like if he didn’t at least focus on one thing while up here then he’d be thinking the country was falling apart. He’s already a couple years away from a heart attack. We wouldn’t want  _ that  _ to be the thing that finally does it.” 

It was horrible of her to laugh but she couldn’t help it. Beau was surprisingly easy to talk to with his straight black hair and beautifully light green eyes. 

“Beau we found the glasses. They were in the library.” Charlie Young, the Chief of Staff, came walking into the room with two intricately looking stemless wine glasses. He stopped when he saw her. 

“Gwen. Nice to see you, again. How are you enjoying Camp David so far?” 

“It’s beautiful here. We haven’t really done much but get settled in but it’s wonderful.” She replied, genuinely. 

“Good to hear it. Well, I’m afraid we’re in a meeting so there’s not much we can entertain you with right now--” 

“We can finish tomorrow morning.” Blake rounded the corner of the house, hands stuck in the pockets of his pants as he leaned against the wall. He stared at her with the tiniest of smiles, clearly happy to see her.

Gwen couldn’t help the nose dive her heart took at the sight of him so relaxed, physically and mentally. He was even wearing a white short-sleeve shirt, and some black boots beneath his dark wash jeans. 

“Sir, we only have a little more to get through--” 

“And I’m telling you we can do it tomorrow. I want to take the kids out on a hike.”

“But if we don’t--” 

“Charlie. I said we’ll finish tomorrow.”

Charlie shut his mouth after that but his face was stuck in some sort of scowl that wasn’t directed towards her but was certainly there because of her.  

“It’s really no problem, Bl--Mr. President. We can wait until you’re done.” Gwen reassured him, not wanting to cause any trouble when they just got there.

Blake pushed off the wall and walked toward her. She had the overwhelming urge to take a step back but she held her ground. 

Blake looked her over, from head to toe, grinning brightly. “We’ve been at this since five in the morning. You and the kids are my rescue believe it or not. Come on,” he tilted his head for her to follow after him as he ventured into the sitting room where the children were still playing.

Gwen caught Charlie’s confused and exasperated look as the President cut their meeting short. Beau seemed relieved for the break. 

“Who wants to go for a hike?” Blake asked. 

Jackson popped up from his perch in front of the couch and said, “Let me get my boots!” 

He rushed upstairs. Teddy sighed, “Daddy, I’m not done building the track.” 

“You can finish when we get back. We won’t be gone that long, promise.” 

“Fine.” The eight year old stood up. “Come on, Manó. You can wear my old boots. They’ve got wolverine on them.” 

The two boys raced each other up the steps. Gwen’s eyes travelled to Lani. The twelve year old was staring at the two adults with an unimpressed look. 

Blake cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Hey Lani. Um, I heard you like to horseback ride so I had the horses prepped for a ride if you wanted to do that instead of the hike. I know being with the boys can be a challenge sometimes. You and your mother can even go together if you like.” 

Lani looked out the window, face in deep thought. “I’ll go on the hike. But I want to go riding in the morning.”

Blake nodded. “Whatever you want.” 

Her daughter sighed as she got up. “I’m gonna go change into some shorts.” 

Gwen ran a hand through Lani’s soft hair as she walked past them to the door. “Thank you.” 

She got no reply but it was a typical response from her daughter so she let it go and turned to Blake. The mother of two looked behind him and saw that Charlie and Beau had disappeared. 

“You goin’ in that?” Blake asked her, smirking at her tight jeans and dress blouse.

“You said you wanted to take the kids out for a hike, not the kids and  _ me _ . I on the other hand, am going to take a long nap, eat lunch, and enjoy some peace and quiet.” She smirked. 

He laughed, surprised at her honesty. “Leave me to deal with four kids on my own.” 

She patted his shoulder and walked backwards to the door. “Just helping you to keep your mind busy. Have fun!” 

 

=

 

Gwen rolled over in the soft bed and grabbed for her phone on the side table. She saw the time and groaned. It had only been an hour nap but once her head hit the pillow, she realized how tired she truly was. She could have slept for a couple more hours if she had the chance. Considering she didn’t know how long Blake and the kids would be on their hike, she wanted to enjoy whatever time she had to herself before they came back.

Once Gwen washed and brushed her teeth, she ventured outside with only a bathing suit and a towel on. She travelled around the side of the house where the outdoor jacuzzi sat in all of its steaming glory. A plate of food lay on the wooden deck next to the tub. It was her lunch and Gwen thanked Leila in her head for bringing it out there for her to enjoy like she asked. 

The designer set her towel on the other side of the deck and slowly lowered herself into the hot water. The cool breeze just managed to bring goosebumps to the surface of her skin and the water took them away one by one. Once fully immersed, she grabbed her plate and phone, turned some Amy Winehouse on, and ate her avocado and egg, sandwiched on a buttered croissant. The music, full stomach, and warm water helped to lull her into an almost trance like state. Her head would fall to the side, occasionally, as Gwen grew more relaxed, more sleepy. 

She was drifting back and forth between being aware and just being completely blissed out for what felt like hours. She was floating between that state of consciousness and slumber when her senses heightened abruptly. 

Her nose tickled as much from the champagne as from the hint of mint permeating the air, and Gwen opened her eyes slowly to see a flute of the sparkling liquid held out in front of her. She looked up and over to see who the outstretched arm belonged to. She should have known it’d be Blake. 

He was sitting on the dry part of the deck, leaning over the water next to her head. She smiled at the one curl that dropped in front of his eyes as he looked down at her. 

“Camp David has better service than the Hilton.” She joked, accepting the offered champagne with a wet hand.

“We aim to please.” He replied, brushing off his pant legs. Gwen noticed that he changed out of his jeans and was now wearing dress pants and a crisp baby blue shirt and a dark grey tie.

“Are my kids still alive?” She asked, sipping from the expensive Roederer.

“They are, actually. I had Beau come out on the hike with me. He has them now. They’re swimming in the lake.” 

She was impressed. “Lani too?” 

He nodded. “She didn’t talk much but she didn’t look like she was having an awful time either so I guess that’s a win.” 

Gwen grinned. “Sorry about that.” 

He shrugged. “She’s almost a teenager. I get it. Jack will be that age, soon.” 

“Boys and girls are different, though.” 

He chuckled. “I do feel bad for you more than I do myself.” 

She flicked some water at him which he didn’t shy away from, even though it was messing up his clean-cut look. 

“You know what’s crazy though? You know that thing I do with my ear? She does it too when she’s nervous. We’ve got the same tick.” He told her, clearly amused at his findings. “Who would have thought. You’re daughter and me.”  

Gwen feigned a smile and set her champagne down. “Hey, um, I should probably start getting out. I wanna take a shower before dinner. Not to mention I have to get the kids together.” She stated as she started to stand up.

Blake helped her out of the hot tub like a gentlemen. Gwen was grateful. She stood, dripping water on the deck as her bathing suit adjusted to the dry air. His hands were holding her arms softly and Gwen registered her own hands clutching his shirt. Her eyes had fallen instinctively to his throat, more specifically, his chest as she noticed the few shirt buttons at the top not done. She didn’t know what possessed her to take her hand and move the lapel over just a fraction of an inch so that she could see the black ink that she knew would be there. 

The numbers looked like they had thirteen years ago. She scratched a nail over them. 

Gwen shivered. Blake, mistakenly believing it to be the cool breeze, reached for her towel and wrapped it around her. He rubbed her arms to create some heat, which brought her closer to his warm body as he continued the motion. Gwen could smell cigarette smoke, feel the warmth of him along her frontside, taste the tinge of his hair gel as he came invasively close. That mint floated through her senses again as he told her why he smelled of cigarettes when she inquired. 

“Charlie.” He said in one breath, looking down at her. His finger curled around a lock of brown hair that dangled just above her breast where the towel had parted.  

Gwen would not admit it to herself later on, but she was the one to lean in first. She could tell it surprised him, her soft lips moving over his sun-kissed cheek. It was a long kiss. Her lips felt like they had been glued to his face. She didn’t mind as she breathed him in, wanting to smell and taste more. 

Blake, to her surprise, pulled away slowly, staring down at her with an open expression. 

“I…” She started. Her heart thrilled when his smile curled upward--undeniably pleased. It was that moment that she came back to herself and smoothed her hair back, stepping a couple feet away from him. The distance separated the tension they had created. 

“I’m sorry.” Blake said quietly. 

Gwen wanted to laugh. She kissed him and  _ he  _ was apologizing? 

“I have to get ready.” Was all she said. 

He nodded. “I’ll see you at dinner.” 

She gave him a small smile and slowly backed away to the corner of the house. Before she left for good, she bit her lip and turned to look at him. His face was hopeful. 

“Um. I want to talk. After dinner, if you have the time.” She declared. 

Blake stuck his hands in his pockets. “Of course.” 

“Great.” She gave him one last tiny smile before disappearing from his sight. 

When she got back inside the house, Gwen leaned against the wall and groaned.

 

=

“So you cook, too. Is there anything you don’t do here?” Gwen asked as she walked into the Main Cabin’s kitchen to see Leila stirring some pine nuts with butter in a saucepan.

“I’ve known the President since his first year in his first term. If there’s anything I can’t do by now for him, I should just pack my bags and leave.” Leila smiled at her. 

Gwen grinned and drew closer to the stove. “Well, is there anything you need help with?” 

“Um...Can you help me knead some of that dough? It’s homemade pizza tonight.”

“Sounds yummy.” Gwen set to work on the flour and wheat. 

Before she knew it, her and Leila had started up a little conversation about anything and nothing at all. Leila told her where she was from, how she got to be at Camp David, and where she saw herself in the next five years: married to her high school sweetheart, and working on her Phd. 

“What are you studying now?” Gwen asked. 

The dough had been dealt with forty minutes ago, giving it the much needed time it had to take to rise and settle properly. Now she was cutting up vegetables for the veggie pizza she and Lani were going to destroy later. 

“Arts and Humanities.” She replied. 

Gwen hummed, not knowing the slightest bit of what that doctorate entailed.

“So did you go to school for design?” Leila inquired. 

“Oh no. I finished high school, stayed at home with my parents for a little bit, learned how to make dresses from this old lady that lived across the street. Eventually, my brother moved to Hawaii and I visited him. I guess you can say I fell in love and before I knew it, I’m living in a tiny little apartment, writing music and designing dresses, living off of the money I made working as a seamstress at the local dress shop.” 

“How did you land the White House job?” 

“Oh, just dumb luck.” Gwen said, simply.

Leila looked about to say something when the kitchen door swung open. Manó came in with his recorder. Wyatt had bought him the camera as a Christmas present when he kept stealing his father’s. Now, whenever they went somewhere different or tried something for the first time, the nine year old just had to document it. Camp David was no different. 

“Manó, not now. Put it away.” Gwen scolded her son. 

“Mommy, don’t look into the camera. It messes up the take.” 

“Well, put it away. Why do you even have it out right now?” 

“I was recording Blake. He’s playing the guitar with Lani.” 

Gwen was surprised to hear Blake’s first name come out of her son’s mouth but she didn’t correct him. 

“Just take it somewhere else, please.” 

Manó rolled his little eyes and left the kitchen just as quickly as he entered. 

“Sorry about that.” Gwen said to Leila. The woman just smiled and waved her apology off. 

“It’s honestly fine. I’m gonna go grab some more ice from the outside cooler. I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay.” Gwen replied. She was chopping the broccoli and spinach into several pieces when the kitchen door opened again, this time revealing the Leader of the Free World. 

He smirked when he saw her and walked over to the fridge, leaning against the door. “Your daughter can already outplay at me twelve.” 

Gwen smirked. “What happened to the little impromptu guitar lesson?”

“One of mine spilled some juice on her shirt on accident. She went upstairs to pick out a new shirt.”

Gwen tilted her head in confusion. Blake explained, “Josie’s nieces left some clothes here last summer.” 

“Makes sense. Did she freak out?” 

He exhaled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Surprisingly, no. It was Teddy and I’m pretty sure that she thinks he’s the cutest thing in the world with the way he hangs off her every word.” 

“Somebody’s got a crush.” Gwen teased. 

He hummed, smiling. “Like father like son.”  

The comment struck her particularly hard but she was saved from replying when the kitchen door flew open. “Mom,” Lani walked in, holding two shirts away from the red stained article already on her skinny frame. 

“What’s wrong?” Gwen rounded the corner of the island to get to her. 

“Teddy accidentally spilled some juice on me. I need to change but I’m indecisive. You always know what to wear. Which one?” 

Gwen smiled down at her daughter before catching Blake’s eyes behind her. She stared at the two options and was just about to give her opinion when Lani and Blake spoke at the same time, saying, “I like the one with the sleeves.” 

There was a pause, a shift in the air, when Blake smiled at the twelve year old and Lani attempted to smile back. Gwen thought it was surreal. 

“Sleeves it is.” Lani murmured, turning around to exit the kitchen. 

“Man, she looks just like you, sometimes.” Blake breathed. 

Gwen’s eyes were fixated on one spot in the room, squeezing shut the moment he made the remark. “Thank God.” She whispered, then turned around to throw him a soft smile over her shoulder. “I’m gonna see if she needs any help.”  

Gwen ran into Leila as she was headed towards the door. She excused herself, feeling bad for not helping her with the three ice bags she managed to carry in from outside all by herself. She knew Blake would help her take care of it. 

She found the bathroom Lani was changing in and gently knocked. “Do you need help, Lani?” 

“No, I’m fine.” Her sweet voice called back. 

Gwen nodded, leaning her head against the door. The urge to wrap herself up in a thirteen year embrace was strong yet fleeting. She settled for sitting on the ground, ear pressed to the wall, waiting for her twelve year old to get finished so that she could take another look at her. Gwen didn’t think Lani looked like her at all. It was one of the many things that Gwen had struggled with over the last several years. She felt like there was more Wyatt in her, and that wasn’t a settling thought either. 

“Actually, Mom. Can you tie the back of this for me?” 

Gwen jumped up when the door opened, immediately pretending like she wasn’t just sitting on the ground like a creep. Lani had her back turned to her anyways as she gestured to the ties at the bottom of the shirt. The mother of two began to tighten it until she reached the top, making a little bow with the strings.

“How’s that?” She asked her daughter as she brushed the lint off of the girl’s shoulders. 

“It’s good. Thank you.” Lani turned around and smiled softly. Gwen took that long look that she wanted to earlier and willed her breath to remain the same.

Lani made a weird face at her mother before slowly moving around her. “Is dinner almost done?” She asked as she walked further down the hall. 

Gwen nodded even though she wouldn’t be able to see. “Yeah, almost.” 

She stood there alone once Lani turned the corner. The comment from Blake had her feeling reluctant to keep on going as she was. It was something that she hadn’t anticipated. She knew she had been running from certain things for years but the thing was, she had finally settled on this. She made her peace a long time ago with it. To suddenly have it thrown back in her face was paralyzing.      

But just like she didn’t bother to think about such things in Hawaii, she definitely told herself that she wouldn’t start thinking about them now, not there.  _ Especially _ , not there.

 

=

 

Gwen watched with pride as her daughter showcased her hula to Leila.

She was seated on the couch, a glass of wine pressed firmly in her hand. Lani and Leila were standing up before her, both moving their hands in motions that Gwen knew were meant to signify nature or emotion. She just didn’t know which ones they were.

Dinner had come and gone. They sat at the table like a little makeshift family and ate and talked to the best of their ability. Charlie and Beau showed up just when the table was being set and Gwen avoided looking at Blake as much as she could throughout the entirety of it, instead focusing on the kids and whatever topic of conversation happened to float up in the air. 

After, the men took up shop in the office for a little bit and the younger kids decided to play upstairs in Jackson’s room. That left the women. Gwen smiled into her wine as Lani corrected a hand motion of Leila’s. 

“Mom, why don’t you do it? You’re pretty good.” 

“Oh, no. I like watching.”

“Please.” Lani pleaded with her blue eyes and Gwen gave in almost instantly. 

“What exactly are we showing with this?” Leila asked, practicing a hand motion Lani just taught her. “The problem is my arms, I think.” 

“No, they’re not a problem.” Gwen assured her. “Don’t think about your arms. Just address the land, and the sky, and the water.” Gwen told her as she slowly started to move her arms in a fluid motion. “You’re just telling a story. It could be the breeze in a tree or a wave crashing into the ocean. Whatever you want.”

Leila focused on her motions and tried to replicate what she was seeing. Gwen hadn’t danced a hula in awhile and forgotten how calming a performance could be. As she continued on, Gwen could feel a burning sensation in the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder to see Blake standing in the hallway, hands shoved into his pockets, watching all of them from a distance. But he wasn’t really staring at her. It was Lani that he was looking at and when the younger girl caught the President’s gaze, she gave him a tiny, shy, smile that lifted the corners of Blake’s smile slightly. 

Just then, Beau tapped him on the shoulder, beckoning him back to work. Blake took one last look at the women in the room before following after the younger man. 

Gwen eventually excused herself to the kitchen so that she could clean up. Leila came in a couple minutes after her hula lesson to help assist and between the two of them, the kitchen was restored back to its former glory. Leila poured them another glass of wine and the two women sat at the kitchen island and talked up a storm once again. She’ll admit that it was nice. Gwen was afraid that she wouldn’t have anyone to talk to up there since Josie would not be coming. But having the younger woman around certainly brightened her spirits.

It was a little over two hours before her son travelled downstairs asking if they could watch a movie in their cabin. Gwen and Leila had gone through almost three bottles of wine just between the two of them. When she finally stood, it hit her like a truck. 

She figured she’d better ask Blake before taking his kids with her without his permission. She told Manó to wait while she sought Blake out. He was in his office still, Charlie and Beau with him. They were all seated around the fireplace, nursing a couple of scotches and moscow mules.

She knocked lightly to get their attention. “Um, the boys want to watch a movie in our cabin. I wanted to make sure you were okay with me taking them?”

Blake shifted in his chair. “Yeah, of course. I figure they're just going to spend the night there since it’s so late.” 

She nodded. “You can check on them when you’re done here.” 

“Alright. Thanks, Gwen.” 

She managed a smile. “Goodnight Charlie. Beau.” 

They expressed their farewells and Gwen left without another look in their direction. 

Once she made it back to the kitchen, she told Manó to get anything he brought over and tell Jackson and Teddy to get ready. 

“Do you want my help with them?” Leila asked. 

Gwen shrugged. “I was thinking of taking another dip in the hot tub after I got them settled. You wanna join?” 

Leila’s entire face brightened. “Absolutely.” 

Gwen grinned and took their wine glasses to the sink while Leila recycled the bottles. Lani helped them with some last minute clean ups, excited at the prospect of going back to the cabin so that she could facetime her friends back in Hawaii. Because of the time difference, they were six hours ahead. It would still be evening time for them in Oahu. 

Once the boys were ready to go, Blake came out briefly to hug them goodbye, reassuring them that he’d be by later on to check on them. Teddy didn’t really want to part from his father but he was also excited to have a sleepover and watch the new Toy Story movie. 

“I’ll be around later. Go have fun.” Blake kissed the top of his head and urged the eight year old to put his shoes on.

“We’re gonna be in the hot tub after I get them settled so if you stop by and don’t see us in the house, that’s where we are.” Gwen told him, gesturing to Leila and herself as she did. 

Blake nodded. “I’ll just be a couple more hours and then we’re calling it a night.” 

“Come on, Mom. We’re ready!” Manó exclaimed, excitedly.

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

The six of them filed outside and took the golf carts. Gwen let Lani drive the one she was in along with Jackson. The ten year old had no problem sitting on Gwen’s lap since there was no back seat. It flipped her heart around for some reason but she just held onto him, not too tightly, but tight enough to know he wasn’t going anywhere. 

She turned to look back at the golf cart Leila was driving. She had Teddy on her lap, letting him guide the steering wheel as she monitored his movements. Manó was squeezed in tight next to her, hanging on. She grinned and faced forward. 

When they got back to the house, Gwen had all of the children change into their pajamas before she helped them make a little fort. It wasn’t like the one Wyatt and Blake made but it would do. Leila came into the room with all sorts of snacks: chocolate, candy, and water because they were already going to be filled to the brim with sugar. 

She kissed all three boys on the cheek and turned out the lights as the opening credits began to play. She kept the door cracked just in case of an emergency. Gwen checked on Lani, who was in her room talking on her computer. She wished her a good night knowing she would fall asleep on the damn thing. 

Leila met her outside on the deck after she changed into her bathing suit. Another bottle of wine was opened but Gwen was surprised to see the little cheese and cracker platter that Leila must have made with the boys snacks. 

“Fancy.” She noted. 

Leila dipped her foot briefly into the scalding water, shrugging. “A little bit of r&r never hurt anybody.” 

“You got that right.” 

Both women submerged themselves underneath the jets and bubbles, sighing. 

“I need one of these at my house.” Gwen said. 

“Where would it go?” Leila asked. 

“We’ll just convert my shower into one. Who needs to be clean, anyways?” 

“I just think it's crazy that you get elected into a position and you suddenly live like a king and queen.” 

Gwen sighed. “We can’t all be so lucky. Although, I think Blake doesn’t really care about all this stuff. I mean he much rather go hunting and live on a land of dirt as long as it had water and trees.” 

Leila tilted her head. “That’s exactly what he would do. It’s crazy how you got to know him in such little time while working at the White House. One of my friends works in the cabinet and they know nothing about the President other than that he’s a genuinely nice guy.” 

Gwen smiled and pretended like that was the truth. “I never thought in a million years that I’d be having lunches with the President and First Lady.” It wasn’t a lie. She never had any intention of seeing Blake and his wife in person. Not in this lifetime at least.

The two women chatted for about an hour before the conversation naturally came to an end and they were content with just soaking and listening to the soft music playing in the background. Gwen couldn’t remember a time where she was this unbothered with life. It was maybe when Lani was first placed in her arms that she last felt no pressing concerns.

It was another hour before Leila decided to call it a night. Gwen wished her a goodnight and proceeded to start heading inside, as well. She turned off the tub and gathered everything that was left that Leila didn’t help clean up before she left. Gwen wouldn’t bother with another shower until the morning. She changed into a pair of pajama shorts and a top, deciding half way downstairs that she would make some popcorn and find a movie on the television to watch.

Before that, she decided to call Wyatt, knowing he’d still be up at the late hour. He answered on the third ring, and his tired voice made her smile. Gwen decided to take a walk outside as they talked. The couple caught up with each other relatively quickly and before she knew it, the conversation had turned to her parents visit and his family’s upcoming summer reunion that happened every year.

She was just getting to the kid’s schedules for them to make such a trip back to the island when a secret service agent came up to her out of nowhere, politely asking her if she could wrap up the conversation and head back to the cabin. Gwen found the exchange rather odd, considering it was none of the agent’s business but then she caught the sight of Blake’s figure pacing back and forth on her porch. He caught her eyes briefly before looking away. She fought down the urge to tell him and the agent to go to hell.

Gwen told Wyatt that she had to go, making up some excuse about checking on the kids. They said goodnight with a promise of her calling back tomorrow in the morning.

She walked back to the cabin and made eye contact with her former boyfriend. She couldn’t see from her walk but now that she was closer to the house, Gwen saw the little bluetooth device connected to his ear. He was talking on the phone, as well. She was about to say something incredibly snarky before she heard him address Andrea, his secretary. Gwen thought it was Josie. She tampered down her brief anger and went back inside the house.  

Gwen thanked whoever stocked the cabins that they thought to put popcorn in it. She popped the bag in the microwave and waited against the counter. Gwen eyed Leila’s forgotten wine bottle opener on the opposite counter. She’d have to remember to return it back to her in the morning, too. 

The designer had just poured the cooked kernels into a big bowl when she heard the front door open. “Done with work, already?” Gwen said sarcastically as she ventured to the fridge to pull out the batch of lemonade that was served for lunch. 

Blake walked in with a blank face and a vase of flowers, peering over the open door of the refrigerator. Gwen looked up and was surprised to see the contents in his hands. “Where did those come from?” She asked, hand circling around a beer bottle’s neck. She held up the dark brew, silently offering him one. 

He shook his head.   

Gwen stood up with the container of lemonade. Her eyes went back to the flowers and he handed them to her. “These for me?” 

He shrugged. “I meant to give them to you earlier. I remember how much you liked to cook with fresh flowers on the counter to look at. I didn’t think that’d change.” 

Her head tilted to the side. “Thank you.” Gwen set the roses on the island as she turned back around to look at him. 

He tugged at the bottom of his ear. His tick. “The kids sleep?” 

She nodded, watching as he opened the fridge and plucked some sort of lime beverage from the top shelf. He popped the lid off with his teeth, something that never failed to turn Gwen on, which she was ashamed to admit, and closed the door. “By the way, I am sorry for earlier.” 

There was too much that had happened earlier for her to know exactly what he was referring to. And she was more pissed about him ending her phone call just now than anything else. 

Blake took a sip of his soda and made a face as soon as the carbonated liquid touched his tongue. He quickly corrected the expression before she could see but Gwen did and rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just get what you want?” 

He looked up at her. “Do you have what you want?” 

There was a moment that they were both unclear of his meaning. She looked down at her glass of lemonade and he looked down at his drink. 

“Maybe I will have that beer, after all.” He said. 

She nodded, letting him pass the moment. 

He did the same thing with the beer that he did with the soda, popping the lid off in one fell swoop. He leaned against the opposite counter and watched her stir the sugar she was adding to her drink. 

“You know what? I asked the question and I don’t think I want to take it back.” He stated. 

She said nothing for a long moment before she realized that he was asking for it by pushing her, but then what came out of her mouth wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say to him. “To answer your question, I don’t know. I like my job but I miss Hawaii and Wyatt wants to work more than he wants to be at home since we moved which means he prefers Hawaii. And that’s fine because it was his home, and his position was there, and his job makes him happy. And he’s a great husband--a great father. I just really want him to be there when I need him. And it’s so frustrating because he’s reminding me a little of you every single day.” 

“We’re nothing alike.” 

“He can’t commit fully. And once again I’m stuck handling--no, actually, more like juggling all of the pieces by myself.” She took a sip of her drink. “You know I don’t really think I’m ready to talk to you like a girlfriend yet so just stop me if I…” She wiped at her forehead as she stared at the counter, completely frazzled all of a sudden. “He’s a good Dad. You know, when he’s here--or there...You know what I mean. He’s good. This isn’t me complaining to you about my husband. I’m not gonna make myself feel cheap or help us make a mistake that could ruin everything we both have worked so hard to build.”

Blake took a long sip from his beer. “I understand, Gwen.” 

“Yeah. You would.” 

He gave her a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m just saying you do understand. You flew to all of these secret locations and you could never tell me and it used to not stress me out but now that my husband is doing the exact same thing and we have kids together it’s like I can’t ask about his day because his day consists of work he can’t talk about. And that’s stressful. I’m stressed out all the time. And this thing now with you isn’t making it any better.” 

Gwen sighed, realizing her mistake. “Oh my God, I’m totally girlfriending you right now. It’s like this place is magic. I come here and it's suddenly like we’re different people and the things that happened before don’t matter...maybe it’s the open air…” She laughed to herself, running a hand through her hair. The mood shifted, like it became a lighter. “I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to talk about my relationship problems with you.”

“I like it.” Blake teased. 

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t even remember why we broke up.” 

Gwen scoffed and set her glass aside, looking over to him. “We broke up because you didn’t show up to meet my family.”

Blake’s eyes ghosted over. “Oh, I didn’t mean we actually talk about it--” 

“Oh no. I had four days planned in Anaheim. I had things for us to do and things to tell you and you...you flew out to Guam.” 

“Guam? Really?” 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t remember. And don’t make this into a joke. I have been waiting for this moment--” 

“If you calm down I’ll try to remember.” 

“It’s not funny, Blake.” 

He sighed and set his beer down. “Ok. Yeah, I do remember. You said if you don’t show up then that’s it for us.” 

“Because you’re a workaholic who creates work to avoid real work.” 

“Yeah, well I’m still working on that.” He deadpanned. “But to me...a vacation can’t be an ultimatum.” He pointed at her. “You made it one. How could I have possibly relaxed on a vacation that I was basically gonna be forced on. That was stressful.” 

“You just had to show up.” Gwen could hear her voice getting louder and she quickly rectified her mistake and calmed her breathing. “I was just looking for that commitment--a freakin gesture. It didn’t have to be bold. Just something. I just wanted you to show up.” 

Blake stared at her until the guilt got to the best of him and he had to look away. He bit the inside of his cheek and nodded to nothing in particular. 

“Hey.” Gwen grabbed his attention. “I really loved you.” 

It did nothing to persuade him to speak, to reply with an empty declaration back. Gwen sighed, feeling a weight lift from her chest. She rubbed at the corner of her eyes to clear her vision so she could look him in the eyes again to say, “I really loved you and you wrecked everything. All our plans…” 

“Loose plans.” He whispered.  

“...And I put it back together.” She continued. “By myself. I found a life, in spite of you. And you need to hear this because I’ve waited a long time to tell you--” 

“Gwen--” 

“You can’t just leave people like that...I was there for you. I was there and you let us go without a backwards glance. How do you justify me letting you back into my life when it was so easy for you to walk out of it in the first place? You can’t let people go and expect them not to cut the cord on you.” 

“You gave me an ultimatum. I never gave you one.” 

“You left me with no choice.” 

“I wanted to be there. I did. And I didn’t not show up for the reasons you think.”

“Give me one reason that you would’ve.” 

“Because I love you.” 

“Clearly, not enough. Not back then.”

“That wasn’t the only reason.”  

“What else is there?” 

“Everything!” Blake whisper-shouted. Gwen recoiled and he took a step back, getting his breathing under control. “If you just let me explain.”

“I am.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand while the other was glued to his hip. He slouched over. “What was I supposed to do when you wanted our life to go one way and mine had to go another? You didn’t want all this.” He gestured to their surroundings. “We talked about it once and you were less than enthusiastic to be First Lady.” 

“You were only considering doing this because of your father.  _ You  _ didn’t want all this.” She pointed at him, disgusted that he would try to put their breakup all on her back. “I told you how I felt about it, yes. But you apparently made that decision for us.” 

“You think you would have given in so easily Gwen but you’re wrong. You would have stepped foot in that house and tried like hell to get out of it as fast as you could. I wasn’t about to watch you leave me.” 

“So you left me instead. Is that right?” 

He sighed. “There’s more to it that you’re not getting.”

She scoffed, moving away from him. “No, what you’re not getting is that you single handedly destroyed us because you were too insecure about my love for you. About my  _ loyalty _ . You had no idea what I would or would not have said yes to. No idea. But if you would have gotten on that plane and met me in California, we would probably still be together right now.” She turned around to look at him, wishing she didn’t when she saw that angered look in his eyes.  

“At what cost? My candidacy? Your business? Our kids? You can’t look me in the eyes right now and say that you’re not happy to not be First Lady.” Gwen’s eyes shifted away from his blue orbs and she cursed the reflex immediately. Blake scoffed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“That’s not fair.” She replied. 

“Life isn’t fair!” He threw his hands up and turned to walk back out of the living room that she had led them to in the heat of the moment.      

“What is your problem, really?” She asked him, not letting him leave her so easily. 

“What is my--?” He whirled around to face her and she had to back up when she realized how close they were. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Really? Then why are secret service agents physically removing me from a phone call I was having with my husband which I’m sure you already knew.”

“Because they do what I say.”

“I don’t do what you say.” 

“Why are you fighting me every chance you get? It’s like we take one step forward and you make sure it’s three steps back.” 

“Because you expect me to do what you want. I don’t have to defend my actions to you.” 

“So don’t kiss me and I won’t.”

“I’m confused. Are you angry that I kissed you or because I had the audacity to call my husband after it?”

“I’m not angry.” 

“You sure? ‘Cause it sure feels like it from here.” 

Blake sniffed. “I’m angry that you didn’t want to come here in the first place and yet here you are, which leads me to believe that you do want to see me. You wanna be near me but you act like you can’t stand the sight of me. I’m angry that you put your husband on a pedestal when it comes to us when really you know I’m the only one calling the shots at the end of the day.” 

“Oh, don’t let your ego get any bigger. I might act like he’s better than you but you’re treating me like I’m somehow a traitor for still loving him. Just because you fell out of love with your wife and your marriage is practically over doesn’t mean we all have the same problems.”

“You don’t want to make this personal, Gwen.” 

“I’m standing in a cabin in the middle of the forest in God knows where so you can yell at me? That already feels personal.”

“Then leave.” He shouted.  

“I can’t.” She yelled back. 

It took a second for them to realize that both their chests were heaving. She took a deep breath and regained her bearings. “I can’t because--” She choked off, feeling those hot tears drain down the back of her throat. She didn’t even know when she had started crying. 

“Because what, Gwen? What do you want? Tell me what you want from me.” 

“I want you to let me go. For good this time.” 

“Anything but that.”

Her breath stuttered. “I can’t leave because you won’t let me go.”

“How do you expect me to do that when you’re standing right in front of me?” It was a terrible cycle. She had to leave him in order for him to let her go and yet she couldn’t leave until he set her free.  

She sobered up when the anger that was simmering for thirteen years had started to rise. “Figure it out.” She gritted through her teeth.

“I already have. I figured it out a long time ago. When I met you. When there was a chance for us. I had the house and the land and the garden out back. We were supposed to make a couple of kids together, Gwen. I was gonna hang the pictures and you were gonna hang the stars and you can’t make me let go of all of that by giving you up. Without you, none of that exists.” 

“It still doesn’t, Blake.” 

“I have the house. We just need to make it a home--make it ours. We have the kids and plenty of pictures and love to go with ‘em.” 

She laughed. It was a pitiful sound. “That’s a dream. It isn’t real. It will never be real.” 

“Gwen--”  

“I get it, Blake. Okay, I do. I see it. That’s  _ the _ dream.”

“No, Gwen. That’s our second chance.  _ You’re  _ the dream.”

She stopped where she stood, this time it was her heart acting like the anchor instead of her feet. They were too far away from each other and yet not close enough.

She was too weak to understand why the distance was a good thing--great thing even--because she walked the three steps it took to make it to him and kissed him harshly, her inclining lips and the rough movements she made with them to guide his impossibly closer. Blake’s hand lifted to cup her head, tangling his fingers in her hair. The other cupped her waist and pulled her to him. Her mouth opened wider to accommodate his demanding tongue. In a flash she was pulling him closer and in another she was pushing him away until the distance between them was the exact same length of her arms.

“Just wait,” she panted.

He swallowed the taste of her on his tongue, holding her wrists where her hands were planted firmly on his chest. 

She hadn’t kissed this man in thirteen years. She hadn’t tasted this man in thirteen years. It confused the hell out of her to suddenly be doing both now. Because being in his arms felt like dying but not being in his arms felt even worse. It was a lose/lose situation and she was sure that he felt something similar.

“Tell me what to do,” he whispered to her then. 

Gwen’s head snapped to his. It didn’t occur to her that he would ask. Then again, she understood why he did. She was the one to initiate this. She kissed him first. She pulled away first. She was leading in every sense of the word. 

“I don’t--I don’t know.” 

Blake seemed to understand because when he stepped into her, arms extended, the next thing she knew she was being pulled against him. Her face automatically tucked beneath his chin to inhale his scent. Besides the obvious spritz of his expensive cologne, there was Blake’s unique smell. 

Her hands wrapped around his frame instinctively, rubbing soft lines up and down his spine. He was so warm. Always warm. Inviting, charismatic, charming, calm, even in the face of uncertainty. 

“I don’t want you to look at me the way you do,” he started, whispering into her hair. “You have to know that I love you. And I don’t want you to hate me anymore.” 

“Shh,” she coaxed against his throat, a tear slipping down her cheek. She realized why she was crying. She was crying because she didn’t hate him, even though he gave her every reason too. She was crying because dying in his arms was a much better fate than not being in them. She had been kidding herself, all along. She didn’t care about staining the White House with a scandal. She didn’t care about her job or future at said house. 

All she cared about was one night with him. All she cared about was right now. The way his face softened when she looked at him with anything but hate, the way her desires were slowly making themselves well-known, the way she finally recognized her unstoppable way of holding a candle for this man anywhere she went. Because she loved him. She really loved him like the earth loved the sun. Why else would it follow it so willingly around the exosphere. Blake was her moon, pushing and pulling the ways of her heart.

Just like it was doing now. She didn’t think about it any further. She pushed up on her toes and landed a soft, passionate kiss to his lips, cradling his face in her hands. She knew it was selfish, what they were doing, giving into their urges. But it was just one night. She wanted one night to forget about all of her problems. 

Blake didn’t react, at first, to the kiss. But then, his lips moved, and began to kiss her back, flinging his hands around her waist in a possessive manner, with all the adoration that he had for her. His kiss was firmer than Wyatt’s and she hated that she had to compare the two. She was just so used to his softness that Blake’s solid presence, his solid and firm touch, reminded her that she was not as put together as she liked to think she was. He was holding her up. He was keeping her together. It was a good thing she supposed. If Blake didn’t feel like Wyatt, it would be easier to push the pain out of her head and heart. The last thing she needed was a reminder to choke her up for the rest of her life with guilt for kissing Blake tonight.

She pulled back at the thought before realizing that she saw no remorse in his eyes and she felt none in hers. She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down into another feverous kiss that had both of their heads spinning. In an instance, the softness from earlier that he had exhibited, that she had willfully accepted, was gone and there was nothing but a hurried pace of limbs and lips to fill its void. 

Her free hand went to pull at his tie, tugging him as she walked backward, toward the front of the couch. Blake groaned against her lips, still letting her control their movements. He didn’t fight her when she fell back against the cushions, pulling him on top of her. He didn’t say a word when she loosened the tie from around his neck and untucked his shirt from his slacks. She expected him to say something when she reached for his belt but he didn’t then, either. She thought she should, felt like she could, but knew she wouldn’t. She took extra care in making sure she didn’t by crashing her lips against his, grinding teeth against teeth and skin against skin. He dipped his head, passionately, low, and took control of the kiss, settling her back against the couch cushion as he remained on his knees on the floor. Him initiating something convinced her to begin the task of unbuttoning his shirt. 

His mouth was too distracting and she got frustrated halfway down and was surprised when she just ripped the rest of the shirt apart. He broke their kiss, immediately. 

“I’m sorry. Don’t stop.” She apologized. 

She knew she was his own, personal kryptonite. That’s how they got to be where they were, now. It wasn’t fair, what she was asking him to do. But she does it anyways because deep down in her heart, she will always love Wyatt, but she will always love Blake more. 

Soft lips found her neck and Blake trailed kisses, licks, and tender bites along her throat. Blake had thirteen years to practice loving another woman and it reflected through the ministrations he bestowed on her as he commanded her legs open with one quick tug to her thigh. With her legs now open to him, he found a place between them, pressing the growing erection he had against the heat of her underneath her pajama pants. Gwen grinded her hips upward, relishing in the friction she felt as both of their pelvises moved as one. Her breath caught in her chest as he yanked the fabric of her shirt up, exposing her bra and stomach. 

His lips travelled lower, pulling down one bra cup to take her small breast in his mouth. The other hand went to work on her shorts and underwear, discarding them on the floor next to him. Gwen reached for his belt again and slipped it off. It made a sound as it clattered onto the floor, hitting the part where the carpeted rug didn’t touch. The button and zipper were next, undone in a haste, and Blake groaned softly when she tucked her hand beneath his boxer briefs and retrieved him, hard and ready and wanting. 

He looked at her and she nodded once, eyes glued to each other as she guided him into her. Her muscles involuntarily tightened around him, and she willed herself to relax as she drew her hands up to the sides of his face. Blake leaned forward to place a soft kiss onto her forehead. 

She knew it would be like this. Him by her side through it all. She knew it from the way they made love. Eye to eye, body glued to body, until Gwen couldn’t take it any longer and moved against him fervidly.

Blake sighed softly and it was like a dam had broken. Soon, they were grinding against each other, hands grasping whatever they could, whether it was an arm or a thigh or a strand of hair. 

The rhythmic slaps of skin filled the room, along with Gwen’s gasps of delight and Blake’s heavy breathing. It felt good, if only for the night, if only for a moment. Because here, here she was safe in his arms. Here, she didn’t need to worry about the rest of their lives because the rest of their lives were so far out of reach.

Gwen raked her nails down his back, encouraging him to be harsher, firmer with her. Blake understood, immediately, biting at the crook of her neck as he snapped his hips, obeying her silent demand. She curled her legs around his waist and rested her feet on his back, taking every painful, blissful thrust. Her head fell back and her eyes closed. The couch creaked under their forceful union, moving an inch forward and backwards every time he moved inside her.

Gwen could feel the beginnings of an orgasm build up. She didn’t know how she managed to pull him up off the floor, flip him over onto the couch until she was on top of him with him still fully inside of her. She rested her hands on his chest, making eye contact as she began to move her hips against him. Blake tucked one hand behind his head, resting the other on her thigh as she rode him. She could tell he was trying not to groan too loudly with the way he clutched his jaw. 

Gwen snapped her hips, picking up speed. Her eyes fluttered closed as she came undone around him. Blake settled both hands on her hips and guided her on top of him. Their eyes never left each other for the time it took for him to come inside of her. He leaned up when he did and captured her lips with a devilishly seductive kiss, causing them both to groan into each other’s mouths.

It was the release she had been looking for and she was helpless to feel bad about it in the moment. Not when his mouth was on hers, not when he felt this good underneath her. 

She’d have stayed there for the rest of the night if she could. Because the guilt of her actions didn’t come to her until they were apart. When Blake’s personal cell phone rang with a call from Charlie, she got off of him slowly, her legs feeling like jelly. He had tucked himself back into his slacks, leaving the zipper and button undone as he walked to the kitchen to take the call. 

It was work. It was always work. Gwen had retrieved her underwear and shorts, putting them back on as she fixed the couch and rug. She wiped at her eyes when she felt the tears come. She didn’t spare him even one look as she climbed the steps, quietly. She needed that shower after all. 

She cursed the time alone. Because her mind wouldn’t let her forget that she was an awful person. That she was a cheater, a liar, a terrible mother. The only thing she was grateful for that night was how the stream of water beating down on her kept the real tears she was crying hidden. No one would be able to tell the difference in here. 

She couldn’t even tell the difference herself. She knew she had changed her character going forward. She could not claim to be who she was before, not after what she did downstairs. But one thing was as clear to her as ever.

The condition of her  _ soul  _ was in the hands of God. There was nothing more than that. And nothing less.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, a couple of hours turned into a whole ass night because of my migraine. But here it is. :)

She shut the water off and opened the shower door, jumping a moment later when she saw Blake sitting on the toilet seat, hands clasped and head down. Gwen studied him for a moment with uncertainty painted across her face. She had half a mind to think that he would leave after he was done with his phone call.  

“What did Charlie want?” She decided to ask, grabbing a towel from the shelf to cover her naked body from his eyes even though they weren’t on her. 

Blake sighed, still not looking up. “We just lost some votes on a bill we’re trying to get to the senate floor. Votes that we needed, badly.” 

She nodded, not even sure she had the energy to care. Gwen stepped out of the tub and wrapped the cloth around her body more tightly. She didn’t say anything for a time because all of her thoughts were a jumbled mess inside her head. 

“What are we going to do?” She asked, quietly. 

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you want to do?”

Blake rose from the seat, pausing as he tugged at the bottom of his ear. Then he walked towards her with measured slowness. “The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me. You’re everything and then some. And I’ll do whatever it is you want me to do. What do you want?”

Something  _ broke  _ in Gwen’s face, and for a second, she could feel the young girl that ran off to California and expected him to follow her. 

“I want to go back thirteen years and wish I never dropped that song.” 

He reached out to tuck a lock of dark hair behind her ear, unable to keep from touching her. She didn’t pull away, and it was a small comfort after what she just said to him. 

“Stop,” she finally murmured, shaking her head. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“How am I looking at you?” 

“Like you’re about to make me a promise.” 

He winced at her assessment before mumurming again, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how else I can convince you that I want nothing more than for you to be happy.” 

Gwen blinked in surprise at his words. Her breath caught when he cupped her face between his hands, holding her gaze steadily. She closed her eyes, tightly. “Don’t say I love you, again. Please, just don’t.” She pleaded. 

“Okay.” He relented and Gwen opened her eyes, looking up at him plaintively. He took a breath and she prepared herself for whatever he was going to say. 

“I love your heart beat.” He declared fiercely, and she couldn’t help the small grin that was blossoming over her face as he found a way to tell her without actually saying the exact words. “And I am gonna promise you only this. I will always love your heart beat.” 

The contentment that swelled on her face told Blake that she still trusted him. He wasn’t sure how much trust was worth after all that happened, but the kiss she brushed against his cheek told him that it was invaluable.

“Can I stay here until you fall asleep?” He asked when she pulled away. 

Gwen couldn’t have rejected him even if she wanted to. She nodded and he lead the way to the bedroom. She didn’t bother putting on any clothes as she left the towel on the floor and crawled beneath the covers. He followed after her, fully clothed in his attire from earlier. He was still warm and the fabric felt soft as it brushed against her bare skin.

She laid her head on his shoulder and ran her hand up and down his chest. “Blake?” 

She could feel him frown, knowing quite well that she was about to ask him something about his life before her, or hell, maybe even about his life with her back in it. He could always tell with the way her voice would go up an octave.

He hummed. 

“Josie.” 

“What about her?” 

“What isn’t about her?” 

“What about her, Gwen?” 

She sighed. “Why her?” She asked, looking at him expectantly. 

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to draw a comparison?” 

“I’m not. I just want to know why you married her.” 

“You want to know why I married her or you want to know why I didn’t marry you?” 

“Jeez, stop with the questions as answers. Okay? I just want to know. I’m curious. You have questions about Wyatt, I’m sure.”

He sighed. “...What kind of coward was I to marry her and not wait for you?” 

She paused. “That’s not what I--” 

“I know what you’re trying to get at...I love her because she made it easy for me to love without having to use my entire heart. I feel like she knew that about me, instinctively. I feel like my father knew that about her when he introduced her to me.”

“Do you miss her?” She asked, feeling insecure all of a sudden. 

“I’ve thought about her.” 

“Did you think about me? These past thirteen years?” 

“Not as often as I wanted to.” He placed a kiss in her hair.

“Why didn’t you get on that plane?”

He placed several more kisses in her hair. “I’m sorry.” 

Those two words held more meaning behind them than he was willing to reveal. There had to be more. He didn’t not get on the plane just because she didn’t want to be First Lady or because she gave him an ultimatum. But he had told her all he was going to that night. He was done sharing.   

Gwen turned away from him, laying on her side, her back facing Blake. He sighed and moved closer, wrapping an arm around her stomach. 

“Please, don’t doubt me. I love you and anyone or any thing else only matter as far as they lead me to you.” 

“Everything just happened so fast.” She didn’t know if she was talking about before or now. 

His arm tightened. “I can’t change the way I feel, Gwen.” 

She nodded, knowing she couldn’t change the way she still felt about Wyatt either. 

“Try to get some sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” He whispered. 

Gwen closed her eyes, feeling for his hand in the dark. She latched onto it, hoping and praying like hell that she didn’t let go of it in her sleep.

 

=

 

He woke up in the middle of the night to take off his shirt. It was too hot in the bedroom. Gwen woke up for a second before falling back to sleep. The next time she woke was to him exiting the bathroom. Even in the dark, she could see that he got rid of his pants, as well. He came back to her in nothing but his boxers and she smiled at the sight, never knowing if she would see this image again. 

In the morning, Gwen was the first to rise. She wasn’t used to calm mornings like this, wasn’t used to a slow awakening with the crack of dawn teasing at the window frame. Today, she had no care of the time, nor the date. That would have required raising her head to look at the clock ticking in the corner, or leaning over the body beside her to look at Blake’s cell phone on the side table. She didn’t want to risk waking the man beside her, and she was too comfortable to roll over and look at the clock herself.

On the side that Blake laid on, his arm was cradling her head, his hand holding it loosely to his shoulder so that his fingertips were resting against the lines of her straight hair. Thanks to her shower the previous night, her hair was still soft to the touch, and unbeknownst to her, one stray strand was tickling the very tip of his nose whenever he exhaled. 

Her ear was pressed tightly against his shoulder, though she couldn’t tell if it was from his cradling or the fact that both of her arms were curled around his other arm. Her nose was pressed against him, as well, and he could feel each breath on the contours of his arms, even in his slumber. 

The arm she was holding was wrapped around her torso, settling on her lower back. If his hand placement was any lower, the morning would’ve ended in one way. But the hints of dawn spreading into the room told her that anything other than laying there would get interrupted before it truly began, and that was something they both could not afford, considering the consequences and the little faces just down the hall that belonged to them both, respectively. 

She took a breath and her body pressed into his. It reminded her of the previous night once more, and she told herself that she had to stop thinking of it because it would never happen again.  _ This  _ would never happen again. 

Unconsciously, he tightened his arms around her and she moved with him, nuzzling her face against his shoulder a little more. She could feel it this time, her mass of hair covering his face. The moment was starting to end, this blissful early moment of stillness and brushing skin would be no longer once he woke up fully. She could feel him beginning to wake as it was. His breathing started to change, and then he moved ever so slightly at the feeling of eyelashes brushing against his skin. His muscles stretched out and breathed their first breath of a new day, pulling parts of him away from her. 

Blake let out a yawn and she began to get up but his arms pulled taut around her. “Not yet,” he murmured, his voice still gruff and filled with sleep. 

“Blake…” 

“Not yet,” he repeated, his face settling down in her hair once again. 

They were silent as the sun raised higher in the sky. Their sleep-filled breaths mingled with the afterglow of a few hours resting after a long night of intimacy, fighting, and love. But Gwen couldn’t let them stay there like that for much longer. Her arms pulled away from him. 

“Gwen.” He protested again. 

“The kids.” She reminded him.

“They’re sleeping.” He told her, eyes still closed and arms still wrapped around her small frame. 

“Blake.” She scolded, disapproving of the way his hand drifted lower, tugging her against him in all the ways to make her putty in his hands. “We can’t.” She managed to get out.

“Oh, we can,” his voice was a deep rumble in her ear. He shifted closer and she felt his morning wood. “And we should--” 

“We should get up. They’ll be awake any minute.” 

“Then we’ll be quiet.”

He wasted no time reclaiming her lips with his, slowly at first, then passionately the next. Her hand travelled to the back of his neck and tangled in the soft curls that grew there. His arm trailed from her back to the back of her thigh, lifting her leg up over his. Blake’s lips moved to her neck and then to her collarbone, slowly dragging his tongue down the middle of her chest while Gwen’s hands found themselves in his hair.

“Blake, come on,” she whispered, trying to get his attention back on her eyes so she could tell him to stop, once again.

And as if God was on her side, there was a knock on the door suddenly. Jackson’s sleepy voice was muffled through the wood as he asked, “Gwen? Can we have waffles for breakfast?” 

A groan came from Blake as he rolled himself off of her. Gwen smirked for two reasons. The one because she had told Jackson and Teddy to call her by her first name instead of Mrs. Howlett or Miss Gwen and she was happy that he remembered and decided that he was comfortable enough to still do it when he did. The other reason because of Blake’s reaction at them being interrupted, like she knew they would.

She stole a kiss from Blake before she got up, finding a shirt and a pair of pants to put on. She opened the door just a fraction and Jackson’s handsome face greeted her. He stepped back, shyly.

“Sorry if I woke you.” 

She shook her head and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as she closed the bedroom door quickly so that the ten year old couldn’t get a glimpse of his father half naked in her bed. 

“I’ve been up for awhile, don’t worry.” She reassured him as they reached Manó’s bedroom. Teddy and her son were inside watching a transformers movie. “You guys ready to eat breakfast?” She asked. 

The two boys nodded and got up. They followed her and Jackson down the stairs. When they passed through the living room, Gwen made sure to keep her eyes away from the couch. She had the boys sit at the kitchen island while she started on the food. The three of them played a video game on their individual handheld game consoles.

It didn’t take long for the smell of chocolate chip and waffle mix to waft up the stairs, waking Lani up. The twelve year old walked into the open kitchen with a sleepy face and a small grin.

“Waffles? With chocolate chips? Who are you and what have you done with my mom?” 

Gwen smirked. “The boys asked for it and we are on vacation.”

She sat at the only other empty seat at the island next to Manó. “Yeah, okay.” Her daughter looked on at the boys’ screens as they continued to play a racing game. 

Gwen served the kids first before she made a plate for herself. She was just pouring herself a glass of orange juice when the cabin door opened. Blake walked in holding a bouquet of flowers. Gwen was surprised to see him considering she thought he was still upstairs, unable to leave until she got the children back into their rooms or out of the house so that he could leave out the front door.

She was even more surprised to see that he had changed into a pair of old jeans and a flannel shirt. His hair was semi-wet, as if he had taken a shower. 

“Daddy!” Teddy exclaimed as swiveled around in his chair. 

Blake walked over to his sons and kissed them both on the head. He squeezed Manó on the shoulder and stopped just in front of Lani. He held out the bouquet of lilies. Lani paused. 

“For you. I gave your mother some yesterday. I didn’t want you to feel left out.” 

Gwen could barely see the smile that was on her daughter’s face from where she stood. “Wow. Thanks Blake.” Lani took the flowers and smelled them. 

“I figured we’d go horseback riding today.” Blake offered. 

Lani turned to look for her mother’s permission. Gwen nodded, still too choked up by the display in front of her. 

“Sounds good.” Lani replied. 

Blake smiled, looking around the kitchen at their breakfast. “I see you guys already ate. You know there’s staff that will do that right?” He told Gwen. 

She grabbed another plate from the cupboard and shrugged. “Jackson asked for waffles. I figured why not.” 

“Hey, Dad. Can we call Mom when we’re done eating?” His oldest asked just as his name was mentioned. 

Gwen, accidently, dropped the silverware that she grabbed from the drawer. “Sorry.” She apologized. 

Blake watched her reaction to hearing his wife’s name. He tried to reassure her with his eyes but she was avoiding looking at him. “Yeah, we can. You can probably talk to Grandpa while you’re at it. He’s been meaning to convince you to go on a hunting trip with him and Uncle Nate.” 

“But Grandpa is super old. He can’t hunt anymore.” Teddy said, stuffing a large piece of waffle into his mouth. Gwen smiled at him. 

“Don’t say that in front of your gramps.” Blake warned him, running a hand through the boy’s curls.

“Mom, I’m done.” Manó announced, handing her his plate. 

“Me too.” Jackson stated. 

Theodore tried to say that he was too despite the other untouched waffle in front of him, covered in syrup. Blake gave him a pat on the back, “Go. I’ll eat the rest.” 

Teddy hopped off the chair and waited as Blake retrieved his phone out of his back pocket, handing it over to Jackson. All three boys went to the living room to watch tv, while Jackson dialed his mother’s number. They sat on the couch and Gwen grimaced for what felt like the hundredth time that day. 

“I take it you don’t want this then?” She gestured to the food in her hands. 

Blake waved it over and he took it from her hands, setting it down in front of him. He ate Teddy’s waffle in three large bites before digging into the two she had prepared for him. Lani watched in fascination as he practically inhaled his plate. 

“That’s disgusting.” She decided before getting up, her own finished plate now sitting in the sink. Blake poked her in the side as she walked past him, exiting the kitchen. Lani laughed and swatted at his hands before going to the window seat to take some more pictures of the rising sun. 

Gwen walked around the counter to Blake. He put his hand on her hip briefly, squeezing the flesh gently before he picked up his knife, again.

“How did you leave this morning?” She asked in a near whisper. 

His eyes sparkled as he looked up at her. “The back door.” She paused. “You didn’t know the cabin had a back door?” 

She hit him in the arm when he started to laugh. “It’s not funny.” 

His hand returned back to her hip, kneading softly. “It really is.” 

Her hand found his and she slowly moved it back to the counter. “Not in front of the kids.” She murmured. 

He nodded and went back to finishing off the last of the scraps. “Did you eat?” He asked.  

She shook her head. “I will.” 

“How about I take Lani out for a ride while you do. You mind watching the boys?” 

“I got it. But I can go with you guys if you want. We can all go, in fact.” 

“Jackson hates riding and Teddy isn’t old enough to handle it. I asked Manó yesterday but he said he wasn’t interested.” Gwen bit her lip. “We’ll be okay if that’s what you’re worried about. Just around the lake and back.” He stood up. “Unless, you really want to go? I can ask Leila to babysit. I just remember how sore you got everytime we went.”

Gwen suddenly remembered that too and didn’t really want a repeat of that particular trauma, even though she liked the horses and loved riding them. “No, that’s okay. You two go. I think I’ll just let the boys play outside for a little bit while you guys are gone.” 

“You sure?” 

She nodded, grabbing his empty plate. “Lani.” She called to her daughter. “Go put some riding clothes on.” 

The twelve year didn’t have to be told twice as she started up the stairs.

“Gwen.”  

She hummed as she started on the dishes. She startled when she felt his chest press against her back and his hands on her hips. “Blake--” 

“Are you upset with me?”

She sighed. She didn’t know what she was. She wasn’t sure about anything anymore, least of all Lani and Blake spending all this time together. “No, I’m not.” 

She turned around and moved him a couple of feet away from her. He tilted his head and asked her with his eyes again. Before she could say anything else, Teddy ran into the kitchen asking for some milk. Blake blinked before he turned and got his son a glass from the cabinet. 

Gwen exhaled and turned back around to start on the dishes. Once Teddy was taken care of, Lani strode downstairs, proclaiming that she was ready. Blake had no time to continue his interrogation as he lead Lani outside. The designer was almost thankful for the space as she set about cleaning up.

If there was one thing she knew, is was that they were treading on thin waters here. She wondered how in the hell they were going to survive beyond Camp David’s gates. 

 

=

 

Gwen smiled as she stared out the window at the boys. They were playing a game of baseball with little makeshift bases that Gwen had helped them make with some slabs of firewood and some white paint they found in the closet (apparently by the backdoor). Jackson had pitched a strike against Manó and the nine year old cursed. She would have scolded him for the use of language but she didn’t want to be that mom. She decided to top off her mug with the last bit of coffee she made and go and sit on the couch. She had stopped shivering every time she looked at it, which she guessed was a good sign. Gwen decided to call her brother and see what he was up to now that he was engaged to be married and a soon-to-be father. 

“Elena bought us tickets to see Hamilton.” Dash said as soon as he answered the phone. 

“How’d she manage that?” 

“Her friend knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a girl.” 

She smiled down at her toes.

“So, how’s Camp David?” He asked.

Gwen shrugged, still preoccupied with her feet. “It’s going good. I’m assuming Mom told you where I was.” 

“Who else?” 

She smirked. “She can’t keep a secret to save her life.” 

“I didn’t know it was a secret. Now you going with just the President...that’s a  _ huge  _ secret.” 

“Dash...just don’t.” 

“What’s he like? I mean, I haven’t seen the fucker in thirteen years.” 

“He’s a gentleman. He’s still smart as ever. We’re having a good time.” 

“That’s all? No first kiss as married people to other people, yet? Come on, give me something. My sex life is dryer than the Sahara desert right now with Elena pregnant.” Dash complained. 

Gwen laughed. “You are ridiculous. She’ll be having mood swings here shortly and you’ll be intimate with each other again.” 

She could hear him smirking. “You know it’s still gets me that you’re old and a mother with two kids and you still can’t say sex.” 

“I can say it,” she scoffed. “I just choose not to when I’m talking to my little brother.” Gwen expressed, pointedly. 

“Whatever you say, Mama.” 

“Shut up, Dash.” 

“This is why Dad calls us the Haynes sisters. I wanna be Judy if we’re talking White Christmas at this year’s Christmas party, though. ”

“Why am I Betty?” Gwen asked, mildly indignant. 

“Because you love Bing Crosby.” 

“Well, I don’t love Rosemary Clooney.” 

“Complain to someone who cares.” 

Gwen shook her head. “I just called to say hi and now that you’ve insulted me, I can hang up without feeling bad.”

“Wait--” 

The phone clicked and Gwen laughed somewhat evilly to herself as she left the device on the table, heading upstairs to change. There was a large sized mirror in the living room that she noted last night when she and Blake were making love. It was the perfect size for her to practice some of the ballet that Lani had forced her to learn with her when she was first giving dance a try.

She went back downstairs and made a little dance space for herself. Her eyes followed the reflection in the mirror as soon as she started, critiquing her every move. Gwen’s supporting leg, the left, was on point as she rotated the right. She could feel her toes on the inside edge of her thigh as they were pointed straight, just above the knee of the left. Her arms were extended outward in the air, keeping her balance in tact as she posed her chin to the side and up. Gwen held it for several seconds before going back to third position. 

She repeated emboité. This time, her eyes strayed to the dark fabric of her leotard. She had brought the garment for other purposes, intending to use it for her workouts. It hugged and traced every single crease and muscle of her lean body. As she splayed her arms, the strength she transferred from one limb to the other could be felt in her legs and feet, all working perfectly in sync with the smooth planes of her chest, the graceful curve of her back.

She continued on in this way until the boys wanted another snack. She cut them up some fruit and cheese and gave them some crackers with juice before sending them back outside to play. Gwen returned to her “dancing” and didn’t stop again until her limbs begged her to.  

She broke position and returned to first before relaxing entirely. While stretching her neck, she walked over to the tiny, wooden, dining room table to retrieve the half empty water bottle from one of the kids. As she drank vigorously, brown eyes moved back to the antique mirror in the living room, admiring the sweaty angles of her face.

She needed a face lift, she thought. And more sun. Her stomach growled. And apparently, food.  

The cabin’s door opened then. Gwen didn’t have to turn around to see that it was Leila entering with a ton of bags of groceries from God knows where. 

“Since no one is aware of the time around here, lunch has passed so I guess we’re moving right on to dinner.” She reminded.

“Sorry. The kids ate a big breakfast and they had a couple of snacks for lunch to hold them over.”  

“That’s alright. But we’re having dinner here. President’s orders. Go take a bath.” She ordered. 

Gwen nodded, stuffing the cap back onto her bottle. “I’m not filling the bathtub up twice. The boys will need one.” Gwen wiped at her face and neck with a towel as she moved to help her carry some of the bags over to the kitchen area. 

“Go take a  _ shower  _ then and I’ll run the boys a bath.” Leila said while she unpacked a bag of fresh fruit, bananas and maja. Gwen hadn’t seen maja since she left Hawaii.

“That bathtub did look nice... Maybe the boys can take a shower just this once.”  

“You should wear that white dress you were talking about yesterday.”  

Gwen shrugged. “If you let me borrow those heels.” 

Leila laughed and Gwen admired the way her eyes crinkled in the corners, somehow only hightening her attractiveness. 

“You can wear them. Now, go! I’m starving.” Leila shooed her away upstairs. Gwen went right to the guest bathroom, if you could even call it that, and walked right in. The room was just an open space with a single white bathtub in the center of the floor. It had a view of the river and she was sure whoever decided to put the room here had every intention of soaking and looking out at the incredible scene down below.  

She played some music on her phone as she started the water, humming some Bruce Channel. Once the bath was finished, she stripped hastily, too busy dancing like an idiot to care where her leotard and tights landed or how far in disarray they looked off of her sweaty body. 

Sinking into the lukewarm water, Gwen sighed. She laid her neck back against the edge and closed her eyes as she nodded and sang along to the next song. Eventually, she landed on an artist she didn’t know and the lyrics escaped her. It let Gwen’s mind rest for a couple of minutes while she laid there, completely relaxed.   

Eventually, there was a knock on the bathroom door, startling the brunette. 

“Mom! Dad called! I told him you were taking a bath.” Lani called to her.

Gwen was surprised to hear her daughter’s voice, not knowing when she and Blake would be back. Gwen just now realized that she promised to call Wyatt this morning yesterday and she had forgotten. Too busy having another man sleep beside her. She felt that familiar feeling of guilt rise up in her throat.  

“I’m getting out!” She shouted back. 

The only part Gwen liked about taking a bath in less than hot water was that she never felt that rush of coldness after she stepped out and dried off. She wrapped herself in a towel and travelled to the bedroom. Lani was already in her shower, no doubt sweaty from her ride, singing loudly for everyone in the house to here. 

Gwen pulled out the white dress from the closet and slipped it on easily. She stood in front of the mirror with her thigh-length dress and did a twirl to regard her backside. She was always self-conscious about her looks, but being there at Camp David, where the only people who knew her where either her kids or Blake’s, Leila, who she now considered a good friend, and Charlie and Blake, Gwen relaxed. The only one that she was unsure about was Beau but she didn’t think he cared much about her as far as the looks department went.

Gwen toweled her head one last time, put on the heels that Leila retrieved and let her borrow, grabbed the blow dryer, and some of her makeup and foundation, before walking the length of the hallway to meet Leila down in the kitchen. But as she got to Lani’s room, the only other bedroom besides her own that had a shower, she saw Blake trying to dress the boys inside. He stood in the center of the room, shirt half open and jeans half done. He looked like he needed a shower while their kids were already finished with theirs. Teddy was shivering while wrapped in a towel, his red and brown curls sopping wet. Jackson had underwear on and was busy toweling his head off. Blake was helping Manó button his blue dress shirt while her son tried to put on his jeans at the same time.

“Dad, when are we going fishing?” Jackson asked. 

The father of two finished with the shirt buttons. “Your mom brush your hair?” He asked Manó. The nine year old nodded. 

“Teddy grab me the comb.” 

The eight year old scurried over to the bathroom counter in his towel and retrieved the hair tool, handing it over to Blake. 

“We’re going tomorrow, Jack.” He finally answered his son as he ran the comb through Manó’s blonde hair. “Teddy, put your boxers on.” 

“I want to go commando.” 

“Where did you even hear that?” Blake asked his son, perplexed. 

“Grandpa.” Jackson answered for his brother. 

Blake shook his head. He had finished with the comb and used his fingers then to get the rest of the kinks out her son’s hair. “Alright, one down, two more to go.” He declared, rubbing Manó’s head. 

“Blake, can I go watch tv?” Manó asked. 

“Yeah, go for it. Teddy I’m not gonna tell you again. Start getting dressed. I’m checking for underwear when I get out of the shower. Jackson you too.” 

Gwen left the door frame before she could be spotted. She beat her son downstairs and went straight for the kitchen where Leila had already started on the casserole. Gwen connected the blow dryer to the second outlet near the window. Gwen looked on as Leila cut up some broccoli as the designer brushed her hair out and then blow dried the ends first.

“You look beautiful.” Leila complimented her when she finally looked up after the blow dryer stopped.

Gwen blushed. She’d always thought she was attractive in a classic sort of way. Like Marilyn but less outgoing. Audrey but with none of the grace she possessed. Almost like a queen and yet she felt every bit a commoner. She was the spitting image of her mother at this age with just a hint of her father. Gwen had those trademark, deep, brown, eyes and thin lips. She had high cheekbones and a perfectly round chin. She wore red like it was black and carried herself in such a way that was subtle, yet, timeless--at least that’s what she’s been told. Come to think of it, Blake had said something similar to her all those years back.  __

“Thanks. What are you going to wear?” She asked Leila.

“That red dress with the slit.” 

“You’re really going for it tonight, huh?”

She smirked. “The President said he wanted everyone dressed up.” 

“For what I don’t know. He’s got the boys in dress shirts.”  

“I think it’s cute.”

“You think what’s cute?” Charlie asked as he and Beau entered the kitchen.

“Where have you two been?” Gwen asked. 

“Working.” Came Charlie’s gruff answer.

Gwen and Leila both rolled their eyes.

“You too look handsome.” Leila complimented. 

“The boss wanted everyone to dress up.” Beau stated. 

“You have any idea why?” Charlie asked the two of them, eyes lingering on Gwen longer than she liked. 

The two women both shook their head. Gwen started applying her makeup, looking at her reflection through the window in substitute for a mirror. She vaguely paid attention to everyone as she worked. She thought she heard Leila say she was going to change once she put the casserole in the oven to cook. Eventually, Gwen finished with her face and sat around the kitchen island with Beau, Charlie, and Leila as Charlie poured them all a glass of wine, and one for Blake after he finished a phone call. 

The kids were in the living room playing a game of twister and whatever card game Lani decided to teach them. Beau was telling the adults a story about his recent ex girlfriend, Eleanor, that he thought was going to be his wife. He was nearly at the end of it.  

“I don’t know. I guess the lesson was that women are a rare form. Men will never understand them.” 

“I certainly never did..I think that’s why God made me gay.” Charlie joked.

The women couldn’t help but laugh.   

“She read it in one of those marriage books she tried to get me to read all the time.”

“That’s funny.” Blake said, and Gwen felt the air shift next to her as the President stood at her side, grabbing for the only untouched wine glass on the island.  

“What? That she actually pays attention to that bs?” Beau asked.  

“No. That she thinks you can read.” Blake replied.   

“Fuck off.” Beau flipped him off with one long middle finger. 

Gwen shook her head as the laughter started up again. Finally, Blake glanced over to her and smiled, chuckling softly underneath his breath. She smiled at him and bit her lip. He was especially handsome in his crisp white shirt and dark washed jeans. His hair had some product in it and rested neatly on top of his head.  

“Hi.” He greeted her. 

“Hi.” She murmured.

“You have fun with the boys?” He asked. 

Gwen nodded. “I did. They played outside for the most part but we ate lunch together. They’re a riot and incredibly funny. I see you in them so much.” 

“That’s a huge compliment. You daughter is amazing. And an excellent rider.” 

“Did she beat you in a race?” 

His eyes lowered. “What gave it away?”

She smirked. “She beats everyone in a race.”

He laughed. “Good to know.”

“So, everyone wants to know why we’re all dressed up.” She mentioned. 

“I wanted to take pictures before we eat. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun up here. Thanks to you and your bunch.” 

Gwen’s heart warmed. “You’re such a sap.” She murmured so that only he could here. 

“You know it...Come on everyone. I want to take pictures.” Blake announced. 

The entire affair didn’t take as long as she thought it would. They separated the ordeal into seven pictures in total with a few funny ones thrown into the mix. The men went first, and Gwen couldn’t keep her laugh in as Charlie and Beau lifted Blake by his legs and proceeded to make awful faces before putting him back down and taking a serious picture. 

Gwen and Leila were next and they stood side by side, grinning beautifully into the camera, a vision of white and red. She called Lani over and they got their funny/cute girl picture that Lani was dying for. 

The boys took a picture by themselves, and everyone shook their head as Jackson, Teddy, and Manó stuck their tongues out and pointed to their butts. The next picture was all males and the girls watched on in fondness as Beau picked up Teddy, Charlie picked up Jackson, and Blake picked up Manó, all three holding each kid in their arms for a handsome photo. 

Blake then requested that Gwen and her children take a picture with him and his kids. Blake was holding Teddy in his left arm while his right was wrapped around her waist as she stood next to him. She held Manó on her waist, thinking how big both of their kids were getting to still be picked up. Jackson and Lani stood in front of them, with Lani hanging an arm around Jack’s shoulder and Jackson’s arm wrapping around Lani’s back. They smiled happily as the picture was taken. It wouldn’t be until later that she realized what life could look like if she and Blake ended up together. It would never happen, and could never be, but she still could look upon that photo and think of happier times.

But what really threw her for a loop was when their kids left them and Lani suggested that they take a picture together. Gwen and Blake. 

“How many people can say they have a picture with the President by himself?” Leila reminded her. 

“Without being in a formal setting too.” Beau piped up from beside her. 

“They do have a point.” Blake murmured to her. 

“You’re pushing it.” Gwen gritted through her teeth as she started to smile at the lens. 

Blake pulled her closer to his side and she dug her finger nails in the back of his shirt. 

“Alright. All done.” Leila said as she lowered the camera. 

Blake squeezed her backside before letting her go, clapping his hands the next moment. “Let’s eat! Who’s hungry?” He asked the kids, picking up his sons and tossing them over both of his shoulders.

He was lucky that the casserole only had five minutes left on the timer, Gwen thought, still recovering from his bolden ass-grab.

Dinner was a joyous occasion. They stuffed their faces to the tune of whatever Taylor Swift album Lani decided to play that evening. They talked about Lani’s victorious race, the boys baseball game, Leila’s tremendously funny story at the market, and Charlie’s encounter with a deer he saw in the woods.

The food was amazing. Gwen almost wanted to take Leila with her when they left this place for good. To think it was just a day away. Gwen tried not to read too much into the sadness that she was feeling. 

Once the table was cleared and the dishes were cleaned, they decided to put on a movie and pop some popcorn. Gwen tried to call Wyatt while Leila and Blake got the kids settled but he didn’t answer. She figured he’d call again when he could. 

Beau stayed with them until his ass couldn’t take sitting on the floor any longer and excused himself for the night. Charlie had already left before the movie began, wanting to talk with his husband for a couple hours before calling it a night, as well. Leila stayed right where she was nestled in between the loveseat and the coffee table. 

Eventually, everyone fell asleep right there in the living room. Gwen was the first to wake up in the middle of the night. Blake had his feet in her lap, his head at the other end of the couch. He was snoring quietly. Jackson was on the floor in front of the fireplace, snuggled underneath several blankets. Teddy managed to stuff himself between the cushions on the loveseat while Manó slept on the floor in front of it. Lani was sleeping in the papasan chair in the corner, her limbs folded in a position that looked mildly uncomfortable. 

Gwen slowly got up and shut the tv off, picking up the empty kernel bowls and mugs of cold hot chocolate. She left everything in the kitchen for the morning and walked back to the living room. She decided to wake Lani and Jackson up first. The two sleepy kids ventured upstairs with murmurs of “Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight, Gwen.”

The mother of two leaned over Blake and woke him up gently. 

“Blake. Come on, I need your help carrying the boys upstairs.” She shook him until he slowly opened his eyes. He groaned as he stood up and clutched at his back. 

He took care in putting out the fire that was still crackling in the fireplace before he picked up Manó, leaving her with Teddy. The eight year old was smaller than her son so she thanked Blake in her head for carrying him up the stairs. The boys stayed asleep as they set them both down on Teddy’s mattress. Jack was fast asleep on the top bunk. 

“I’m gonna wake Leila up and tell her to lay on the couch instead of the floor.” Gwen whispered as Blake shut the door. He nodded and walked with her down the hall, checking in on Lani before closing her door, as well. 

He really was such a good father. 

Leila moved onto the couch without protest at being woken up. She didn’t ask any questions about where everyone had gone, probably assuming her and Blake took the children to their beds. But she didn’t inquire where Blake was or why he wasn’t sleeping on the couch, probably too tired, too. Gwen was grateful. He would have to sneak out much earlier tomorrow morning. 

When she made it back to their bedroom, Blake was brushing his teeth. She joined him and for a moment, she had another insight into what their lives could be, what they should have been. 

They were too tired to bother with anything else and just ended up stripping each other and falling into bed. Gwen closed her eyes with a sigh as she felt Blake plaster himself to her backside. He was always hot, like a furnace that ran all day. 

She felt warm lips kiss the back of her neck. But they didn’t stop there. He ran his mouth down the length of her side, pressing into her ribs and hip bone. 

“Blake.” 

He gave her no impression that he heard her. He continued his exploration until she was on her back and his head was between her legs. 

The lovemaking that night had been satisfying, pleasant, comforting. There were no massive fireworks like last night, but her toes curled, and her heart raced at the sight of him. It felt like coming home and she was content.

In the morning, she was almost looking forward to seeing him softly snoring next to her but when she opened her eyes, his side of the bed was empty. She frowned before remembering that there weren’t just a house full of kids that they had to worry about. Leila was also there, too. 

Gwen got out of bed and took a quick shower. By the time she got dressed, there was a small knock at her door. This time, it was all of their kids, eyes still sleepy but stomachs groaning. She smiled at the noise. 

“Come on. I’m making eggs and oatmeal today.” She told them. 

“Can you make bacon, too, please.” Teddy asked in a soft voice. The boys nodded while Lani made a disgusted face. Even in her tiredness she hated the mention of any meat. 

“Yes, I’ll make bacon, too.” 

They set up camp in the living room again as she started on the eggs. They had to be relatively quiet since Leila was still asleep. Gwen figured she’d make all the food this time since the aid was always doing the cooking for them. 

She was just making there plates when there was a knock at the door. Gwen frowned considering no one knocked, except maybe Charlie or Beau but then they would walk right in afterwards. Blake and Leila entered her cabin whenever they felt like it. 

The designer went over to the front door and opened it with a smile, which dropped as soon as she saw who it was. 

“Gwen! Oh my goodness, you look great! I told you a vacation would do you some good.”

The First Lady stood on her doorstep, smiling brightly, arm and arm with none other than the President of the United States.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter coming tomorrow!

This was not a romance. 

It was the first thing that Brad thought when he saw Blake and Gwen together for the first time.

His oldest friend had invited him down to the beach for some party that happened every two months or so, no matter the weather. He had never met the woman in person but from the conversations that Blake and him shared over text message, she was apparently the best girl in the world. 

He had found them down by the little tiki hut that served as a modest drinking station and a bar all in one. It was from the moment he sat down, when they had just bloody met, when Gwen had her fingers running all around the rim of a bottle, looking at  _ him  _ instead of Blake, when he thought that this wasn’t just some romance his friend had found. That gaze that Brad had witnessed held everything that he was trying to find in a woman; sincerity, warmth, eccentricity, and loyalty. She was incredibly smart, vivacious, and sexy. Brad even thought himself in love with the girl. 

But what fascinated Bradley was that Blake’s eyes, that incredible swirl of azure and teal, shined brighter than any sapphire the world could find. One look in Gwen’s warm, ginger, orbs and any man would be smiling ear to ear for all of eternity. 

Brad congratulated his friend out loud for waiting until they hit the beach before grabbing Gwen’s ass, and her smirk in response was brilliant. Brad had tossed his beer in the sand, following after them like the world’s best third wheel. Gwen wanted to dance. The music was loud, some pop song that Blake and him couldn’t give two shits about. But the little dressmaker took both of their hands and led the two men down by the shoreline. She pulled Brad in close, the humid air whipping past them as a breeze rolled off the ocean. 

They had stumbled over some forgotten beach towels and fell on top of the other, kicking up large sums of damp sand onto their clothes and into their hair and mouths. Brad had spit, and Blake had laughed at the sight of his best friend and best girl. Gwen’s infectious laughter cut threw him and Brad chuckled at the dribble of grit running down his chin that Gwen wiped away with a soft thumb.

Blake helped the two of them up and right away, this perfect specimen ran her fingers along the bracing points of Blake’s face, right along to his open mouth as she parted his lips further. Brad imagined that his friend tasted water and sand as her hands were covered in them. He watched him swallow a few fine grains and was rewarded with a sweet kiss not a moment later. Gwen tasted of sweat and watermelon margarita and a full life that hadn’t yet been lived. Or so he was told later that night when him and Blake walked back to his flat after dropping Gwen off at her small apartment.

Blake had crashed at his place when it was all said and done. And Brad had gone downstairs in the middle of the night to grab a cold glass of water like he had done every night since moving to that fair island they called home. He stopped to check on Blake. The taller man was sleeping on the pull out couch, and where he once had frown lines covering his forehead, betraying his worries, Blake slept peacefully through the night. Brad thought, once again,  _ this was not a romance _ .  

That peace would last for as long as it could. The second it started waning was not when they fought over some girl in Blake’s unit or when they broke up over a weekend for some reason that Brad for the life of him could not remember. There short lived peace broke off in one of the happiest moments in their relationship. 

It was the housewarming party. Gwen’s brother moved out onto a large property up in the mountains, and left her the house that he had been occupying for the last five years. Gwen moved in, while Blake had a place to put his clothes and shoes, a place to make coffee for two. He still had his flat but when he came home from a mission, he went straight to Gwen’s. That house was theirs. That house was acquainted with his friend already; it had watched Gwen be kissed by Blake. It had watched the two fight, fall asleep on the couch watching old black and white films, eat vegan dinners that Blake silently hated but very much adored because Gwen had loved it. 

But that was after the housewarming party. The housewarming party was so late but very much needed, nonetheless. They only invited him. Brad understood why Blake had not introduced her to anyone but his friend but it was a mystery as to why Gwen was so comfortable with keeping their relationship so private. He would come to find out later on that Gwen wanted the Oklahoman and Arizona native to meet her family from the beginning but Blake thought it best to wait. 

Bradley had showed up with a bottle of wine and some fresh salmon that he bought from the local market. They accepted him with warm smiles. He chatted with Blake in the kitchen as he prepared the meat for the grill. Gwen hung around them, making herself a salad as they talked shop and everything under the sun. 

It was a small moment that he caught between the two, when he went for a leak and found them in the living room. They had eaten, swam, and drank until the sun finally went down. He knew his friends were affectionate, exchanging kisses at the window, in the glow of the stars, with that house and their only friend--him--bearing witness. But when he walked in on the sight of Blake sitting on the couch, the firelight playing across his skin, highlighting the increased pace of his breathing in the rise and fall of his chest, Gwen standing before him, stripping her bathing suit cover up until it pooled around her bare feet, Bradley thought what a lucky man his friend was. Blake had watched his girlfriend disrobe with the focus he usually only applied while shaving with a straight razor or cooking any piece of meat.

“Might be my favorite thing about living together.” Blake had murmured, his voice hoarse, rough. 

“Technically, you don’t live here.” 

“We gonna have this talk again? I need my flat.” 

Gwen had dropped to her knees at Blake’s feet. “In my experience, men who keep their own place when they’re with a girl intend to entertain others just like her.” 

“I only have eyes for you.” 

She tapped one of Blake’s knees gently. Blake spread his legs to admit Gwen between them. She slid into the open space, laying her entire torso across his own chest and stomach.

“You promise?” She asked, teasing but oh so serious. “Because if you leave me in the dust, I’ll be so heartbroken.”  

Blake raised his hands to Gwen’s shoulders, rubbed down the length of her back as far as he could reach, tensing slightly as he drew his hands back up to cup the back of her neck.

“You want me to promise something I have no control over?” He asked her in response. 

She shook her head. “I want you to promise me something that you only have control over. Breaking my heart.” 

This was not a romance. He kept telling it to himself over and over again, each time he saw these small moments between two humans who were undoubtedly slaves to the facts of life. He knew his friend. He knew that he was not a bad person. And so to save him from something that he didn’t have to give up so soon was Brad’s pleasure. He walked into the living room just then and both of their heads turned to face him. Neither of them moved, just smiled as he entered their little orbit once again. Never in a million years did he anticipate falling back into it. 

He told Blake that night on the terrace. No affairs. No cheating. No mistresses. He  _ told  _ Blake not to trust the universe. He told him not to trust the facts. Just because they were the truth didn’t make them the right thing to live by. But here he was, standing in the master bedroom in the main cabin at Camp David, seven in the morning, staring at a bed that should have been turned down, should have been slept in, but wasn’t because his best friend was the biggest fucking idiot to ever roam the face of the earth.

Blake walked past Bradley to relieve himself and brush his own teeth, having just come from Gwen’s orbit, no doubt. Brad stood there for a minute, frozen between getting into the untouched bed himself, burying warm limbs under cool sheets since he got no proper sleep, having been roused at three in the morning to even make this lousy trip, or going to the bathroom and punching the leader of the free world in the dick. He chose neither option and instead ventured downstairs when he heard the start of the shower running. 

Brad made himself at home, going to the kitchen to fetch a couple of beers and turning the television on to whatever golf match was playing. He only needed to wait fifteen minutes before his friend joined him down in the living room, knowing he was running on borrowed time with Josie’s impending arrival. They stared at the screen and drank their beers for awhile before Brad had what he finally wanted to say lined up in his head and mouth. 

“Will you tell me something?” 

“Anything, you know that.” Came Blake’s reply. 

“You told me once, about Josie, about sleeping with her that first time. You told me it didn’t mean much of anything to you, but it meant much more to her.” 

Blake stood up and took their already empty bottles to the trash in the kitchen, turning his back as Bradley formed the question he was really asking. 

“What  _ did  _ it mean to you?” He asked, following after the president. 

Blake turned, leaning back against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle, hands gripping the edge. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “I never really bothered to think about it, fully.” 

“Try to think about it now, then.” 

“Why? Why does it matter?” 

“You hold some affection for your wife. Yet you just betrayed her in a way that most people, most marriages don’t come back from. What does she really mean to you? That matters here, Blake. She matters here. And considering she’ll be here in two hours, I might think you’d want to figure it out sooner rather than later.”

“You want me to feel guilty. I do. I just don’t feel guilty enough to hate myself.” 

“That doesn’t bother you?” 

Blake shrugged. “I can’t help it. Or change it.” 

“Do you like it? Feeling this way?” 

Blake paused to blink several times. “No. I don’t but that’s what I feel.”

“What about Jack and Teddy? You hated your father for having a mistress. You saw what that did to you and your siblings. You want to put them through that kind of pain?”

“I want to be happy so that my kids can be happy.” 

Brad winced. Blake had made an excellent point--a diplomatic reply. His friend had learned the art of spinning bad shit into gold because he was a great politician inside the office and most certainly out of it. 

“Josie is perfect. She is beautiful. She’s smart and kind and caring. She’d take a bullet for you. She  _ has  _ taken bullets for you. You love her. You may treasure Gwen in that sad way we treasure anything we’re never going to have again. But you worshiped Jo. I know you think this is for the best, giving up what you worked so hard to gain, but it’s the wrong move, Blake. I’m telling you this because I love you. And because you don’t see how fucked it is to give up something you gave up everything for at one point. I know she was. Gwen was everything to you. But you made the decision to leave that behind. For her and for yourself.”

“What if I made a mistake?” 

“Josie is not a mistake. Josie is perfect.” 

Blake closed his eyes. “Will you stop saying that, please?”  

“She is. What is wrong with you that you can’t see that?” 

“I see it.” Blake told him, vehemently. 

“You can’t appreciate it.” Brad tried again. “You want to leave your marriage, your entire life with your tail tucked between your legs like a coward for a woman who you don’t even know will leave her family for you, too. You’ve got the perfect life, why can’t you see  _ that _ ?” 

Blake pushed off the counter. “I see it every damn day!” 

“Then act like it!” 

Blake sighed, flatly. “My wife is the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever known, ever loved. And I do love her. Is that what you want to hear? She is perfect. But she’s…Josie alarms me, Brad. In that perfect way of hers. In the way that would drive any man crazy because why want for another woman when you have the only girl in the world that is honest to god, flawless? It makes it hard to walk away, unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you find a woman that disarms you.”

Brad stopped in his tracks, seeing the way his friend’s shoulders fell into a slump. “Blake--” 

“Unless you find a woman that starves you, takes your breath away, steals your sleep.” The president continued. “Gwen strips me down to nothing. I have nothing to do anything with. Do you know how gratifying that feels? To be the president of the United States, to rule the country and by definition, the world, and barely sleep at night, barely eat through the day because I can’t. Because of her. Because she hasn’t allowed me to. She doesn’t even know how much power she has over me. I mean do you know how I live my life? My entire day--hell, my entire week--is carefully thought out down to the second I can close my eyes for the night. I have a schedule that tells me when I can take a fuckin piss in between meetings with the prime minister of Canada and the president of China’s Republic. Gwen is the only variable in my life that I can’t anticipate. That I don’t want to. I want the unpredictability that comes along with being with her. And when I gather the courage to leave, it won’t be with my tail tucked between my fuckin legs. It’ll be with the balls to go after something that you could never be sober long enough to appreciate.” 

Bradley flinched. “Blake, I’m--” 

A phone rang--the president’s. The father of two sighed and dug around in his jeans pocket to retrieve the device. “Yeah?” He answered. 

Brad watched him nod to whoever was on the other line before hanging up with a perfunctory, “I love you, too.” 

Blake tossed the phone on the counter and rubbed at his long face. “Josie will be here in twenty.”

Bradley wasn’t sure what he was and wasn’t allowed to say. It was the first time since Blake’s candidacy that he truly felt like anything to come out of his mouth would be insulting the president instead of his best friend. He was also trying to recover from the drunk comment Blake had made before.

“Listen…” Blake began. “I appreciate you coming out here. I want you to stay until tomorrow morning when we fly back.” 

“Stephanie won’t want me gone that long on such short notice.” Brad said, not unkindly. 

“Please, Bradley. I’m...I’m sorry about what I said. I knew it would strike a nerve and it was petty and childish and it won’t happen again.”

The dark haired man could breathe a sigh of relief at the apology he readily accepted. His friend wasn’t completely lost. “What are you going to do?” 

Blake licked his lips and tugged at the bottom of his ear. “I’m going to greet my wife on the tarmac and bring her to see the kids. And I’m gonna pray like hell that I don’t lose Gwen over it, forever. ‘Cause that would break  _ my  _ heart.”

Brad flashed to the living room in Hawaii, to Gwen’s similar words, as if Blake could read and see his thoughts. And maybe he could. Maybe he knew this wasn’t a romance, too. 

Maybe he knew this wasn’t even love. It wasn’t lust, either. Blake couldn’t tell the world, and he couldn’t give it up, and he couldn’t let it lead him anywhere that he had not already gone. He was stuck. 

So, no. This was not a romance. 

It was a call to arms, a battle and a war fought tirelessly. It was a wall coming down. It was a lie and a hand held out that went unnoticed. It was a drunk trying to get sober and a poor soul falling off the wagon, again. It was a sea of casualties bleeding in the streets. It was a blue heart, and a red heart, and a heart that pumped too fast and a heart that didn't pump at all.

This was not a romance.

It was a heartbreak. 


	17. Chapter 17

Gwen was proud of how quickly her smile came back in full force after Josie greeted her with a couple of sweet words and a perfect smile.

“Josie! Hi! How are you?” She asked, moving aside so that the couple could enter the cabin. “How was the baby shower?”  

“My sister came down with some kind of stomach bug.” She said, sadly. “We did some minor festivities but she was too ill for the actual party today. I figured I’d surprise the kids.” 

As if on cue, her boys leapt from the couch and attacked their mother with a series of hugs and kisses. Gwen’s eyes moved away from the reunion to see Blake smiling softly at the scene before they moved to a third figure entering the cabin after them. Gwen’s eyes widened when she saw Bradley Tobias Dylan there in the same place as she.

Memories flooded her mind instantly and she wanted to drown every last one of them. She had seen him at that White House dinner, when she saw Blake for the first time in thirteen years. But he was a fleeting sight. She was too busy trying to avoid the president and get through the night without any sort of trouble. 

When Bradley saw her, his eyes looked away in a quick flash. Her insides tightened and she sniffed, looking away to her own children as Josie told Teddy and Jackson how much she missed them over the weekend.

“Something smells wonderful.” Josie said just as Leila joined the land of the living. When she heard the First Lady’s voice, she hopped up and tried to make herself look presentable. Gwen wanted to laugh.

“I made breakfast.” Gwen said, as politely as she could muster. “No one’s eaten, yet. But the food is done.” 

“Oh, good. I only had a muffin and a coffee on the plane.” Josie replied, heading for the kitchen with two handsome boys on each of her legs. 

“Lani, Manó, let’s eat.” Gwen ordered. She smiled at Leila, trying to tell her with her eyes that it was okay for her to stay but the older woman could clearly see that the aid didn’t have the same relationship with the First Lady that she had with Gwen. She slipped past them quietly and exited the cabin.

Josie went right to making plates for all of the children. And while she was completely occupied with the task, Blake leaned in close to whisper. 

“Gwen--” 

She put a hand up, effectively stopping him. She met Brad’s eyes and they were solemn for her, because of her, and in spite of her. She looked into Blake’s eyes one last time, memorizing the blue so that she could have it for the next thirteen years, because she was leaving. She had decided it the moment she saw him smile down at his wife and kids. Gwen and her own family were going to leave for good.

The message must have been received because Blake’s eyes shifted back and forth almost desperately, all over her face, begging her not to, to change her mind, to hear him out. It was the most painful conversation she ever had, and she didn’t have to utter a single word to have it.

Gwen left the two men standing there as she went to the kitchen to help her employer. She made herself numb for the remainder of that morning. They ate breakfast, she was silent as she sipped a cold ice tea. The kids wanted to swim in the lake, she was silent while she watched them, sunbathing with Josie on the lawn. The most anyone got out of her were a few one worded answers. She kept a small smile on her face, a mask, but also a reminder of how she vowed not to let anyone wipe that smile away permanently, not even Blake. She kept smiling as they ate lunch, as Blake excused himself with Bradley to attend a meeting in the main cabin with Charlie and Beau. Gwen even kept a smile as Josie asked her about the last couple of days. Flashes of Blake on top of her, underneath her, inside her, rose like a dam and were drowned like a fish. But she couldn’t help but exaggerate how nice the people that worked there were to Josie, how amazing the camp shined at night when the lights came on, how her husband had been eager to spend time with not just the kids but herself, as well.

Gwen regretted her taunting words, immediately, when she saw Josie’s face crumble for a half a second. The next thought Gwen had was...this wasn’t her. She wasn’t the kind of woman that cheated with another woman’s husband. She wasn’t the type to cast doubt on another relationship. She just wasn’t the type to take someone’s happiness away like that. So she backtracked the best she could. Covered up her scathing words with other ones that painted Blake in nothing but a faithful light, telling the First Lady that her husband was just curious about Gwen. Curious about where she had come from and how she got to be in Hawaii. Curious about how she got started in dressmaking and how she met Wyatt. She told her how much Blake appreciated Gwen’s talents and her presence because it made Josie happy, and he was always overjoyed when his wife was, too.

That brought Josie’s smile back. Her face had shifted into that perfect place and it was like Gwen hadn’t soured her mood at all. The dressmaker breathed a sigh of relief when they cleaned up the benches and tables outside after the kids were finished eating. The two mothers allowed their kin to play some more in the lake as they sipped at some wine coolers. Gwen begged Josie to tell her about her family and she sat there for another hour just listening to the woman speak, all the while thinking of this woman’s husband’s words, his hands, his mouth and his tongue. 

She wanted to throw up, and nearly did as she finished her fifth wine cooler. Josie’s two sat on the ground next to her, a perfect amount. She couldn’t help but think how everything this woman was, everything this woman did, was perfect. Who was she to compare herself? Who was she to think that Blake didn’t want that? Perfection. What man didn’t? Despite his words, his treacherous words, words that gave her hope and confused the hell out of her, he brought this perfect woman to her doorstep and made her a proper fool. He called her unperfect. Not to her face but to her heart. For words hit her there and actions hit her within.

“What do you think we should have for dinner? It is the last night anyone will be here. I’ll have Leila prepare something.” Josie said after a couple moments of staring out at the lake. Her storytelling had ended several minutes before.  

The older woman shrugged. “Whatever you want.” 

“I’m thinking of a roasted chicken, tonight.” 

Gwen hummed, lacking the proper energy to keep up her disguise. Her face was starting to hurt from all of the forced smiling. 

Eventually, they rounded the kids up and took them to the cabin--the main cabin. Gwen tried not to be irritated. It was nice having everyone come to her and her own. Blake, Beau, Leila, even Charlie didn’t have a problem with being in the lesser cabin. 

Before they got up the hill, she asked Josie kindly to look after Lani and Manó as she went to her own cabin to retrieve a change of clothes for her and her kids. When she entered the main cabin, Josie had already started baths and showers for the children. Gwen changed her clothes in the downstairs bedroom before going to tend to her kids. As she left one of the guest bathrooms with Lani in the shower and Manó playing video games with Teddy until the next bathroom was free, Josie asked her to check on Leila to see if she needed anything before the First Lady occupied the third shower herself.

Gwen nodded and went back downstairs, joining the aid in the kitchen. Leila smiled when she saw her. 

“Come to help the help?” Leila asked, somewhat serious. 

Gwen winced. “That how she make you feel?” 

“Everytime. But I start to ignore it the moment she does. The president is the exact opposite and that usually helps.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. You’ve made this visit one of the better ones.” Leila smiled as she chopped some celery to cook along with the chicken. 

“I wasn’t expecting her.” Gwen admitted, needing to at least tell someone about how she felt about Josie’s unexpected arrival. 

Leila shrugged. “I’m surprised the president didn’t say anything last night.” 

“Me too.” Gwen said quietly, knowing why he didn’t. If there was one thing that was wrong with the leader of the free world, it was that he was a coward when he wanted to be--needed to be. Gwen shook her head, ridding herself from painful thoughts. 

“Did you want any help?” She asked Leila. 

“If the First Lady sees you, I’ll have to have my resume ready and in her hand by the time the chicken is done.” She joked but her tone held a serious note underneath the teasing words. 

Gwen felt depleted as she sunk into a island chair and watched the girl work. She tapped her nails along the countertop before a thought popped in her head. 

“Do you know Bradley Dylan by any chance?” Gwen asked. 

Leila nodded, stirring something inside of a pot, perhaps gravy. “I do. He’s President Shelton’s best guy. I was surprised to see him here, too. They look like they’re at odds with each other.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, when they came in here earlier for the president’s meeting, they were arguing in the hallway. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was coming in from outside. I had to grab more ice.”

Gwen tilted her head. “What did you hear?” 

Leila stopped stirring and leaned over the counter to say quietly, “They were talking about some woman. Blake looked like he didn’t want to talk about it but Bradley kept insisting, saying that it was for the best.” 

“What was for the best?” 

Leila shrugged. “I’m not sure. But the president mentioned the name Stella, and how he couldn’t let her be mad at him.” 

Gwen’s stomach dropped. “That was it?” 

Leila shrugged. “Apparently, this woman loves him. Bradley said that if she didn’t love him anymore, all of it wouldn’t go to shit. Then the president said it already has. I mean I have my suspicions about what they might be talking about by how the conversation ended.” 

Gwen couldn’t resist twisting the knife inside of her chest any further. “Tell me.” She demanded softly. 

“Bradley said that the president shouldn’t have gotten involved again in the first place and then President Blake said that he agreed after a moment.”

Metal struck artery. Gwen took a deep breath and pushed back the wave of hurt that had travelled to every organ and every vein. Leila arched her eyebrows as if finding the entire situation scandalous, not knowing Gwen’s part in it, not knowing the entire truth. When the aid turned back around to tend to the food, Gwen clutched at her heart, only finding cloth, coming up short with unbreathable air. 

She excused herself, saying she had to go to the bathroom. Leila told her she’d pour them some wine for when she got back and Gwen forced the last smile she would make for the night as she left the room. She stumbled down the hallway, catching herself on the wall. She made it as far as she could before she stopped and let a couple of tears fall. The mother of two wiped them away quickly, not leaving any evidence behind of her broken heart.

When she felt strong enough to walk again, she found her feet carrying her to his office door. She didn’t want to be there, she didn’t want to see his face, but something in her soul made her stop outside that office. Something in her bones made her open that door. Something in her blood made her step inside. She was grateful and miserable that that something did.

The voices stopped as she stood there. Four pairs of eyes stared at her and she only had the heart to stare back at  _ him _ .

“Gwen? What--Do you need something?” Blake asked, eyes wide with surprise. He had his back facing her where he was sitting. He had to look over his shoulder to see her. 

_ Do you need something?  _

That something was in her eyes and once he stared long enough in them to fully understand, his face changed, his eyes dulled.

Blake stood up, limbs tired. “We’re gonna need the room, please.” He said, looking at the men in the room. His voice was quiet, resigned. 

Charlie looked from Gwen to the president. He stood up, as well. Beau and Bradley followed. “Sir, you have that phone call with the Prime Minister of Israel in ten minutes. Maybe you can find another--” 

“We need the room.” Blake cut him off.

Charlie bowed his head, shaking it mutely for a second before obeying, leaving with Beau and Bradley on his heels. Gwen walked away from the door to allow them to pass, standing off to the side of the furniture in the center of the room, behind Blake. Her president looked down at the floor as feet shuffled out of the room, and when the door closed shut, Blake glanced to the side at her feet with sullen eyes. 

“Gwen…” 

She looked at a vase on the far side of the room, holding back the water she felt in the backs of her eyes. Licking her lips, she managed to look at his jawline. He was still staring at the ground.

“Stella?” She repeated the nickname, tasting it as a insult for the first time in her life since she met him. He finally managed to look her in the eyes. “Stella?” She repeated, feeling the disgust take over her face. “Stel--” She choked then, the tears coming hot and fast but never falling. “Stella?” She raised her voice slightly, when the strength filled her again. She was stopped by one finger pointing up. 

Gwen extended her neck back and saw a device on the ceiling. It looked like a camera. When she looked back to Blake, he had one finger against his lips, then pointed that same finger to the table beside her. She looked down at a recording device.

Wyatt had told her one night in bed how President Reagan and his successors had several meetings videotaped. How there was a number of reasons why presidents might want to have their conversations recorded. The first being that the primary intent of taping conversations is to protect the president from convenient lapses of memory of his associates. It was also useful for valuable reference material for the president’s own use.

Gwen looked back to Blake and his face looked like it hadn’t seen a good night’s sleep in days. She thought he slept just fine next to her. Another lie. 

The president tilted his head to the far side of the room, where a giant oak desk was sitting beautifully by large floor to ceiling windows. It paralleled the oval office. He started walking over to where he had gestured. “Come here.” He said in a low voice, quiet as ever, his arm brushing hers as he did.

Gwen followed slowly, mirroring his unhurried pace. She stood by one of the windows as he stood next to the other.

“You’re leaving me.” He said, just as quiet. 

“You walked her to my cabin door.” She whispered, fiercely.

“I had no choice.” 

“You could have told me she was coming.” 

“I only found out this morning.” 

“You should have warned me, then.” 

“You’re leaving me.” He echoed again, stronger this time. 

“Because you’re married.” She hissed. “Because I’m married. Because we should be dedicating ourselves to our partners. Because you're the leader of the free world. Because I don’t want to be the other woman.” He moved, walking closer to her as she continued, “Because I don’t want to lose my family and my husband. And because it’s for the best--do not touch me.” She pleaded as his movements backed her up against the window, his hand moving to her side. “Don’t touch me, please--” Her whispered voice died as his hand wrapped around her back, as he pulled her close. 

She kept her gaze firmly on his throat as her body froze. Her head moved involuntarily as he crept closer, as his mouth came closer. She licked her lips, feeling his breath fan across her face. It was several minutes of feeling him pressed against her front, tasting the burboned scented air around her, hearing her heartbeat out of her chest, begging to be set free.

His hand came up to rest against the window, trapping her in as the heavy curtain draped along the other side. His face never stopped inching closer to hers. Not until his nose rested along her eyelid, and her cheek rested against the curve of his mouth.

“Look at me.” He whispered. Her breath came out in shallow puffs, keeping her choking on what little air she could get in. “Look at me,” he repeated. She gave one firm shake of her head. His hand moved from the window to rest along her flushed neck.

“No,” she whispered, moving her face to the side.

“Look at me.”

Her gaze remained on his shoulder, his chest, anywhere but in his eyes as she said, “Did you wish it never happened?” 

“Stella.” 

Her gaze snapped to his and her brown eyes bounced back and forth between his blue, gazing everywhere she could along his face. “Did you wish it never happened?” She asked with much more conviction.

“I. Love you.” He replied. 

Gwen’s face filled with disbelief in a second. She looked away from him, the tears running back to her eyes, to drain down her throat, to choke and kill and leave her a pale mess of limbs in front of his feet. Gwen pushed him away roughly, removing herself from his clutches. She looked back to his face when she managed to escape and seeing his begging eyes caused a fury to rise up inside her so quickly that she barely had time to stop the slap before it came. 

His head moved to the side, resembling whiplash. Blood rushed to the skin immediately, purpling the side of his face and neck. He looked back to her stunned. 

“I believed you!” She yelled. “You clouded my judgment--you made me mistrust my gut ‘cause I wanted to believe that you loved me! I cheated on him! I destroyed my family--” 

His mouth cut her off. His hands trapped her face. His body trapped her indefinitely.

The kiss was deep and passionate, slow and intense, comforting in ways that words would never be, painful in ways that wars have only ever been. His hand rested below her ear, his thumb caressed her cheek as their breaths mingled, as their tongues tangled. She reciprocated the same amount of want and passion that he gave her to begin with.

“I just want to say that we can hear you screaming--” 

The door opened, Charlie walked inside, closing it as soon as he saw the sight before him.

Gwen ripped her mouth away from Blake’s, turning her back on the two men in the room. The president looked from her to his chief of staff, looking for all the world as if he had just come from a funeral.

Gwen glanced briefly Charlie’s way when the man spoke nothing for several minutes. She fixed her hair and glanced out the window, wanting the floor to swallow her whole. She heard his quiet footfalls across the carpet eventually. He did nothing but stare as he neared his leader. 

“Mr. President. You wanna go clean up.” It was not a question.

“Charlie--” Blake sighed. 

“No, you have lipstick...on your mouth.” Blake looked down at the ground, a slow hand coming up to wipe at his lips, staring briefly at the red stain. “You need to clean up.” Charlie repeated.

The president looked like he wanted to say more, either to Gwen or Charlie, but he thought better of it, breathing a deep sigh as he moved to exit the room. Gwen heard the door open and close but her gaze remained outside, past the dark bushes and trees. 

Charlie sighed. “Mother of God.” Gwen couldn’t help but steal a look at the older gentlemen. He met her eyes. “He tells me everything.”

She swallowed.

“I knew things with Josie were...strained but I didn’t think he’d actually--” Charlie sighed. “He didn’t tell me.” 

He looked for all the world like the country had just been called into war. All her walls already felt like they were blown down. She felt like she was just another casualty lying bleeding in the streets. Charlie probably thought she looked like one or even worse, wished she was one. He certainly was not going to give her a hand out. She was screwing with President Shelton’s legacy, no doubt in his mind. Like a democrat and a republican fighting on opposite sides of the war. He was a red heart. She a blue. They were on opposing sides in Charlie’s head.

“I don’t think he would have ever told me.” Charlie’s voice rang through the air, breaking her from her thoughts. He looked hurt and confused now.

Her face twisted. “Because it doesn’t matter. I don’t matter enough. I never did.” She stated with a finality that came from the hardest part of her that she could find. 

She stalked past him to the door. 

“Oh, no, Gwen. Gwen, don’t go.” He sighed, wrapping a hand around her upper arm. 

She shrugged him off. “Don’t. I have to go.” 

She exited the room, thanking whatever God that still wanted her as a child that Beau and Bradley weren’t standing outside the door.

As she walked back down the hall, she touched the wall beside her. It physically put her and Blake on opposing sides. His red, her blue. His lies, her truths. 

One thing she knew for absolutely sure…

Romance was on the losing side with her.

 

Heartbreak for the win.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trust meeeeeee :)

“Mom, someone called saying it’s about Dad.”

Gwen pressed her hands to her face, feeling the heat underneath her skin. She nodded at Lani, running a hand through her daughter’s hair as she passed Gwen the phone. 

“Oh, Gwen, good you’re still here. I figured we could make some brownies for the kids, for our last night.” Josie said, having finally come downstairs.

Gwen wanted to roll her eyes. By  _ them _ she meant  _ Leila _ would make the dessert and they would sit around and watch as she did. The mother of two managed a smile as she looked toward the living room. The kids were all done with their showers and were sitting around the coffee table drawing. The men were nowhere in sight. Gwen shook her head and thumbed through her miss calls, seeing a number she didn’t know. They had called her six times. She frowned, calling back the number. 

The person answered on the second ring. 

“Mrs. Howlett?”

“Yes? Who is this?”

“Mrs. Howlett, I’m Officer Clearmont from DC’s Metropolitan Police Department. I’m calling about your husband, Wyatt Howlett. He’s been in automobile accident just right off of Bladensburg road. He’s headed over in an EMT as we speak to George Washington University Hospital.” 

Gwen tried to speak but her throat suddenly went dry. She tried to blink but her eyelids wouldn’t move. 

“Mrs. Howlett? Are you still there?” 

Her lips moved but nothing came out. 

“Mrs. Howlett?” 

“Gwen, what’s wrong?” 

She vaguely registered Leila’s voice as the aid came to stand in front of her, a look of concerned painted across her face. 

“Is he--what--is he still…” Gwen tried and instantly recoiled at the officer’s sigh. 

“He was in critical condition when paramedics arrived at the scene but that’s all I know, ma’am. I’m sorry. Truly.” 

She nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay...thank you.” 

“I wish you and your family nothing but the best. Goodbye.” 

The dial clicked. She wondered how the police man even knew Wyatt had a family and then a thought of the picture of the four of them in his inside pocket in his wallet flashed in her mind.

“Gwen? Gwen, hey. What happened?” Leila asked, eyes still full of genuine concern.

She looked up and saw Josie staring at her in trepidation. A quiet fell over the room, and she realized the kids had stopped drawing. Six pair of eyes were glued to her rigid form.

“Wyatt got into a car accident.” She whispered, not wanting the kids to hear.

“Mom, what happened?” Lani asked when she couldn’t hear her mother’s reply. 

Gwen turned to regard her, sniffling back old tears and the new ones that threatened to arrive. “Everything is gonna be okay. Just give me a second and I’ll tell you. Go back to drawing.” 

The children were hesitant in obeying her command but eventually, Manó turned back around to his crayon drawing of the White House and Teddy and Jackson followed him, each coloring a page from the toy story coloring book they found in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Lani stopped coloring altogether but she didn’t press her mother for anymore information, which Gwen was grateful for.

“I can have Blake bring the helicopter around in five minutes.” Josie said, walking around the kitchen island to be by her side. 

“And I’ll watch the kids if you don’t want to take them to the hospital, right away.” Leila offered. 

She shook her head. “They should be there. I don’t know how bad--the officer wouldn’t say. If something happened and I kept them from seeing--” She choked off, not even able to finish the sentence. 

Both Josie and Leila ran soothing hands over her back. 

“I’m getting Blake right now. Stay put, we’ll be right back.” Josie reassured her and left the room in the direction of her husband’s office. Gwen didn’t even know if they were still in the house. She didn’t know anything, anymore.

“Let’s sit down. You can’t do anything until the helicopter gets here.” 

Gwen nodded and allowed Leila to lead her over to the loveseat. Lani watched in silence as Gwen took several deep breaths, trying to calm her accelerated heart beat. Manó, as well as the other boys, tried to pretend like they didn’t notice her shallow breathing or the grey cloud that suddenly loomed over all of them.

“Mom. Please tell us.” Lani eventually said when her mother stopped clutching at her chest. 

Gwen tried to look both of her kids in the eye as she began to speak but she couldn’t bring herself to. “Your dad...he got into an accident and he’s at the hospital.” 

Lani right away stood up and started pacing the length of the room. Manó remained where he sat on the floor, crayon dropped somewhere by his feet, forgotten.

“But everything is going to be okay. You hear me? You dad is gonna be just fine.” Gwen said, moving to sit on the floor next to her son so she could wrap him up in her arms. The tears began to fall almost immediately. 

Gwen looked over to Lani, still walking the entirety of the floor, only stopping when Josie emerged with Blake on her heels. She startled at the look on Blake’s face, not able to read anything he concealed within his eyes. 

“Let’s go. It’ll be on the lawn in a minute.” He said, helping Manó to his feet and then her. 

“What about our stuff?” She asked. 

“We’ll have it shipped.” Josie helpfully provided. 

After that, it was a mad scramble to get all of the belongings they had with them now in the main cabin. They rushed out to the helicopter when they were finished, and Blake and Beau helped both of her kids inside, putting on the necessitated headphones for them while they simultaneously buckled the two Howlett children in their seats.

“Call us when you find out anything.” Josie told her just as she and Leila put the last of their bags in the compartment by their feet. 

“I will. Thank you. For everything.” She told both women, catching Blake’s eyes as she did. 

Josie hugged her and Leila squeezed her hand. Gwen gave them a shaky smile before pulling herself up into the aircraft. She felt hands hold her hips and give her an extra boost. She knew they belonged to Blake.

As Gwen adjusted her headphones and clicked her belt, Blake yelled over the whirring blades at the pilot but she couldn’t hear a word without him hooked up to his own mic. But the man nodded and saluted the president before warning the rest of the group to get back. 

Gwen and her family watched as they retreated to the cabin as the helicopter ascended slightly in the air, it’s ground blades no longer on the plain of grass. Lani had ridden in a helicopter so many times in Hawaii that she never grew nervous. It pained Gwen to think that her daughter would no longer associate the aircraft with good memories. 

Gwen closed her eyes and let the low humming and steady vibrations of the helicopter lull her into a state of numbness. By the time they had arrived, she felt like fifteen minutes had passed. In reality, she knew it was much longer. 

The inside of the hospital was too bright. She winced as soon as her and her children were lead inside from the roof entrance where the president’s helicopter was currently stationed. It was the pilot helping them navigate the halls now and Gwen thought back to Blake’s conversation with the man. This must have been what they talked about. 

As they neared one of the front desks, Gwen steered her kids over to the waiting area, knowing a fair amount about hospitals. They were going to be waiting for a long time. 

“Are we going to be able to see him?” Manó asked. 

Gwen nodded. “Let me find out where he is and I promise you once the doctor says it’s okay, we’ll all go together.”

“Mrs. Howlett?” The pilot walked up to them. 

“Please, call me Gwen. And you?” 

“Aaron, ma’am. I checked with one of the nurses. Your husband is on the fourth floor, east wing. The doctor would like to talk to you before you see him.” 

She nodded. “Okay. Are you leaving?” 

He shook his head. “President’s orders. I’m to stay here with you and your children until told otherwise.” 

Her heart relaxed somewhat at that information.

“Could you watch the kids, then? While I go see?” 

“Of course.” 

Gwen exhaled and bent down to kiss Lani and Manó on the forehead. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to talk to the doctor.” 

They nodded, silently. She stood back up and faced Aaron. “Thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate you.” 

The pilot looked uncomfortable at the show of gratitude but nodded his head, nonetheless, managing a small smile. 

Gwen walked to where the nurse and doctor were waiting. The doctor was a tall man, with a short white beard that looked like scruff more than anything else.

“Mrs. Howlett, I’m Dr. Stark.” He held out his hand for her to shake. She did so unsteadily. 

“How is he?” She asked. 

“Let’s walk and talk.” He guided her with a deft hand over to the elevators on the far wall. The nurse stayed back as they walked into an open one, empty save for another doctor. 

“Mr. Howlett has a few minor cuts and bruises along his face and neck. His right hand is broken in five different places along the palm, but that is an easy fix. His left pelvic bone has a tiny fracture that can be dealt with in surgery, as well. But what concerns us the most is the broken rib that’s punctured one of his lungs. Now normally, we would put a chest tube in to let the excess air out. But in Wyatt’s case, we discovered one of the lobes has some scarring. Now this looks like pulmonary fibrosis. It’s not caused by the accident but we caught it in time to maybe schedule a living transplant.” 

“What do you mean it wasn’t caused by the accident? Wouldn’t he show signs of whatever this is.” 

“The severity of symptoms vary from person to person and case by case. Some people become ill very quickly with this severe disease and others have moderate symptoms that worsen more slowly, over months or years.” 

“So what do we have to do?” 

The elevator stopped and they walked out into a dimly lit hallway.

“Living transplants are easy and simple. I simply take a part of a donor’s lungs that matches your husband’s blood type and transplant the lobe into Wyatt’s lungs.” 

They arrived at a closed door with the curtains drawn. Dr. Stark slid the door open and allowed her to enter first. When she saw Wyatt lying there asleep, her heart constricted. He looked so frail, weak, battered, unlike the man she knew who flew planes over war zones for a living. 

Gwen drew near and grimaced at the sight of his blue tinted skin. The doctor had informed her that it was due to the fibrosis. She was glad that Dr. Stark warned her about his cuts and bruises because there wasn’t enough bandage in the world to hide the imperfections that littered her husband’s face like a road map. 

She took his hand softly, and swallowed back tears and mucus. He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t going to die either. She would not cry. 

“How soon can you do the surgery?” 

“Well, we would have to put him on the donor list. But if we can find a match without it, maybe two hours tops. It isn’t an emergency surgery, yet.” 

The words were meant to be comforting but all Gwen heard was that this was the potential calm before the storm, and it already looked like a war zone. Wyatt looked every bit of a casualty. And she shuddered for thinking of the analogy. It would be like God to punish her this way. Fight with Blake and drag her husband into the middle of it until she was confronted with his wounded body. 

“You need tests, right? To see if I’m a match?” She asked, quietly. 

“Do you have kids?” 

She nodded, eyes still glued to Wyatt’s sleeping face. 

“The kids will most likely be a better donor. Siblings or children.” 

She sniffled, “Whatever you need to do.”

She couldn’t see his nod but she felt it. “I’ll have a nurse start running the tests. In the meantime, you and your family can stay here until we know more.” 

Until they could do more, Gwen thought.

That was how she spent the next two hours, waiting in a room, consoling her children, holding her husband’s hand, watching as the nurses took Lani and Manó one by one out of the room for testing, and thinking that not a damn soul could do anything more than what the universe was stringing together already. 

“Gwen.” 

The designer looked up from her place on the small couch by the window. Lani had her head in her mother’s lap and Gwen was running her fingers through her hair. 

“I bought some sandwiches from the subway downstairs. Manó mentioned he was hungry earlier and that you guys didn’t eat dinner.” Aaron said, walking further into the room. 

Just then, as if they all had forgotten their hunger, the Howlett family’s stomachs moaned in unison. Manó cracked a smile as he hopped down from the edge of the hospital bed and went right over to Aaron and the food. Gwen tapped her daughter’s head, making her sit up. 

“You have to eat.” She told the twelve year old.

“Dad needed to be in surgery by now.” She countered. 

“He will. The tests are almost done.” 

“If I’m a match then I can’t have anything for the surgery.” Lani replied. 

Gwen sighed, knowing she was right. Her mind had gone completely out of the window ever since she got that phone call. She was remembering things that she didn’t want to and forgetting the ones that she needed. 

“Manó, wait until the tests come back.” Gwen ordered her son. The nine year old sighed. 

“Sorry, Gwen.” Aaron apologize. 

“No, that was really kind of you. Thank you, again.” 

He smiled.

A knock sounded on the door and Gwen looked up in hope and anticipation, thinking it was Dr. Stark. But the man that stepped foot in the room was not wearing a scrub outfit or white coat. He was in an all black suit and he wasn’t alone. Several more secret service agents came and inspected the hospital room before declaring the space clear. Gwen’s blood rose in temperature. 

Blake walked in a second later wearing nothing but a blue sweater and some dark washed jeans. He looked immediately at Wyatt and Gwen’s defenses rose like tides. His eyes then darted to Aaron’s. 

“Thank you for staying, Ronnie. You can head out, now.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Aaron saluted. He turned to her. “I wish him a speedy recovery.” 

“Thanks, Aaron.” 

The pilot shuffled out of the door just as the first lady entered at the exact same time. Gwen grinded her teeth. How dare he?

“Gwen, how are you? How is Wyatt?” Josie asked right away, coming to settle down in the open space right next to her. 

“He’s fine. He’s gonna be fine. He needs surgery. A lot of it for the broken hand and pelvis and the punctured lung. He needs some kind of transplant the doctor said. They tested the kids to see if they would be a match but then the nurse said even if Manó was that he was most likely too young and so it’s up to me and Lani.” She exhaled, rubbing her hands together, nervously. Hearing it out loud really allowed the severity of the situation to set in.

“I’m so sorry.” Josie squeezed her hand and as much Gwen wanted to hate her, she just couldn't. 

“Knock, knock.” Dr. Stark poked his head into the room. Gwen expected him to be surprised at the sudden appearance of the president and first lady but the surgeon didn’t even blink. “President Shelton, it’s such an honor to see you, again.” 

“Hey Greg. I hope you’re taking every step to make sure Lieutenant Howlett sees this through.” Blake responded.

“Of course, Mr. President. And speaking of…” The man shuffled a couple of papers around in folder before continuing, “The tests came back. Now your son is a donor match but hospital policy is very strict on a surgery this size and the age this small. Your daughter wasn’t a match, in fact, her blood type doesn’t match either of her parent’s. But Gwen you are the best candidate believe it or not. It’s rare we come across spouses with similar blood types and sizes of organs we want to transplant. But if you’re ready we can start prepping you for surgery now.”

“What do you mean my blood doesn’t match my parents?” Lani asked, clear as day. 

The doctor paused. “Well, it’s not uncommon for a child to have a completely different blood type than their parents. The most common scenario is AB and O blood. The child could have A or B blood if that was the case. But you’re blood type is AB- and that’s extremely rare for your parents to have--” 

“Lani, why don’t you ask the doctor about it when Dad and I get out of surgery? I don’t want to wait any longer.” Gwen interrupted, rubbing her daughter’s back. 

“Right. Let’s gets you set up in the next room over.” Dr. Stark said. 

Gwen nodded and avoided anyone’s eyes that weren’t Josie’s. “Can you watch them for me?” 

“Of course, Gwen. We’ll all be here when you get done.” Josie pulled her into another hug and for the first time that night, Gwen welcomed the embrace. 

The mother of two kissed her children both on the forehead and then gave Wyatt one in his hair, the only place on his body that didn’t look like she might break it some more. 

She was lead to the next room over, given a gown, given some papers to sign, given some air to breath without eight other people wanting to share in the already sparse molecules. And before long, she was being wheeled off to surgery the same time as her husband. He wouldn’t have known but she was right there. She knew it and that was enough for her. 

While under anesthesia, the only thing Gwen’s mind managed to think up was the missed phone calls in Wyatt’s phone. She wondered where he could have been, who he was with, why he never got around to calling her back. She never did get the full story. Where was he driving to? Home was the other way. Home was nowhere near where they had discovered the accident. Home had to be where he was going. It had to be. She got the distinct impression that it wasn’t. 

She wouldn’t have known it, but her heart raced underneath the knife, causing a moment’s panic for the doctors and scrub nurses all working hard to keep her and her husband alive. To keep their home from falling apart. Her heart hoped that there was such a place to go back to when all was said and done.

 

=

 

She woke to beeping and the unmistakable antiseptic smell of a hospital.

Her throat was raw, her head ached, and her chest was a raging bundle of pain. With effort, she opened her eyes. The dark room was lit by the machines hooked up to her arms and chest, and by a faint white glow from the hallway.

Lani was asleep in a chair, her head cradled in her arms against the bed. Josie sat at the other side. She too was asleep.

Gwen closed her eyes and pushed the back of her head deep into her pillow. Her son must be with his father and Blake in the other room. Gwen was just relieved that she wouldn’t have to face him just yet. 

She closed her eyes and let the pain medication pull her under.

 

=

 

It was the following afternoon when she and her kids would hear the news of Wyatt’s recovery. His lung had not rejected the piece of her own, and Gwen couldn’t help but see it as a sign. They were still good. They could be better, things would  _ have  _ to get better, but right now, he still loved and accepted her, still wanted her, at least his body still thought so. 

Gwen had remained in bed for the entire day, healing, recovering herself. The nurse urged her to only stand when she needed to use the bathroom. Lani and Manó had only left her side once to go back to the apartment to shower, change, and eat. Josie insisted the kids stay at the White House where she would have her own to keep them company during the night and the next morning. They left her that evening. Wyatt was still heavily medicated, between his hand, his hip, and the transplant. But she was well assured that his skin returned to its former, healthy, pink, glow and his breaths had evened out, finally. 

She rested easy in her hospital bed knowing that they both would return home soon--together. 

There was a soft knock on her door. Gwen glanced over briefly to the glass, expecting it to be one of the nurses again. She was surprised to see Blake behind the frame, asking permission to enter. The vague jerk of her eyes seemed to be an invitation, or at least, not a refusal. 

He walked in empty handed. And Gwen averted her eyes from his sharply tailored suit. Her gaze remained away from him, even after he sat down on the bed by her side. 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” She asked, uncaring. 

“I couldn’t think with you still in here.” He revealed, quietly, looking down at his hands. 

Gwen glanced his way. “I wasn’t the one in a car accident.” She reminded him. 

Blake inhaled. “You’re angry with me, still.” It wasn’t a question. He looked up at her. “I don’t know how else to show you. I get the best surgeon in this goddamn state to cut your husband open. I would have donated my entire lung to make sure he got through this.” 

“You say that like it means something to me.” 

“What does Lani mean to you?” 

Gwen’s body froze. 

“Better yet,” Blake continued. “What does she mean to me?”

Gwen gave him a piercing look. “You can go.” 

“You don’t dismiss me.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you. So why don’t you just--”

“I love you--” 

“Stop saying that. My husband is ten feet away from me in the next room, fighting to be here for his family and you are throwing yours away for some pipe dream that ended when you chose not to step foot on that plane.” 

“You have to understand. I did it for you.” 

Gwen couldn’t hear anymore of his bullshit. She stood up on shaking legs but held her ground. “You think I wanted you to do anything for me? I wanted you to do it for yourself. Everything was for you. I knew that going in. I knew I would have to sacrifice. I did it for you. And you couldn’t even be bothered to see it.”

Blake stood up, facing her, nothing but the bed between them. “You didn’t want this life. You made that clear to me and you know you did. I thought you saw me--” 

“I did see you--I do see you--” 

“No, you didn’t. You still don’t. I didn’t have a choice, Gwen. All of this,” he spread his arms out. “I had to do it. I had to be this.” 

“No, you didn’t.” 

“I did.” 

“Why!” 

“Because I couldn’t be anything else!” 

Their chests heaved up and down. Her heart raced and his ran. His eyes never strayed away from hers as he began to speak, softer this time. 

“I couldn’t be a good husband. I couldn’t even be a father. I was terrible as a son. The only thing I knew how to do was run for that office. I was born for that office. That’s all I’ve been told, ever since I was a little kid. I didn’t say I wanted to become the president when I grew up, I said I was going to be the president. And when I met you...for the first time in my life, I didn’t want that anymore. You made it a possibility for me to walk away from it, from everything that I learned, that I studied, that I trained so hard. The night before you left for California, I called my dad and told him that I wasn’t that man anymore. And he asked me what man I wanted to be. And I didn’t know the answer. I didn’t have an answer, Gwen, because all I know how to be, is this. And I do it well. And I’m sorry that I left you in order to be who I am. I truly am sorry. But now that I’m here, doing this, I see that I can have both.”

She scoffed. “You’re even more delusional than I thought.” She said it with no malice nor ill intent. “You had both. You had me…….and you had our daughter. And you threw them both away for an office you got to sit in for eight years...by yourself.”

His face distorted before her very eyes. What was once a recognizable canvas of flesh had turned into something only strangers could possess, and pain could have drawn. 

“So, she’s really mine?” Blake asked, his voice a low rumble. 

She didn’t need to speak to give him an answer. 

He paused and sighed, but for once, he did not tug on the bottom of his ear. His casted his gaze onto the ground and his eyes darkened. He glanced back up at Gwen. “Why?” His voice sounded more pained than anything she’s ever felt.

“We were supposed to be a team. You walked away.” She answered simply. 

“You said you’d never break my heart.” He revealed.

“You said you loved me. I guess the two are on even playing fields when it comes to us.” 

“I guess so.” 

“I guess you’re the one that’s angry now.” Gwen said, feeling the mood shift to a plain of hostility. 

“I am angry that you kept this from me but I am even angrier that you’re so intent on destroying us.”

“If you’re so angry then why are you still here?” 

“I’m here because I love you.” He said, exasperated. 

“And how does that change anything that has happened between us? What’s the point?” She half yelled. 

“Do you still love me?”

Gwen drew a breath in, staring him down. 

“Do you?” He asked, again. “Still love me.” 

Her eyes fell to his throat. “Does it matter?” She asked, herself. 

“It matters. Do you still love me, it’s a yes or no question.” 

Her eyes fell to the side. She couldn’t believe how good he was. This was how he was going to win the war. He was exactly right when he said this was all he knew how to be. 

“Gwen--” 

“I do.”

It was the closest she was ever going to get to marriage with this man. Just those two little words.

“But I can’t do this anymore.” She said, walking past him to the door. Her only escape was Wyatt’s room and she somehow felt sicker going to the man who wore her wedding ring when she just confessed her love to another who wore her entire body, skin, blood, bones, and all like a victorious flag waving in the wind after everyone else had already fallen.

“Wait.” 

“Blake--” 

“Wait, just wait. Just wait one second with me.” 

Gwen stopped, her back still turned away from him. He sighed. 

“I know I’m not good enough...I just--can….can you let me love you? Please. Please. Please, let me try again.” She felt his breath fan the side of her neck as he leaned down, closer to her face. She hadn’t even heard his footsteps approach. “I need you to give me another chance...I demand another chance. We’re worth another chance.” 

His words were the best weapons. And just like the rest, she succumbed to them without a moment’s hesitation, turning around and grasping his face with her hands. Their lips meet in an all too familiar dance but this time, Gwen noticed the urgency behind their movements. It casted a dark cloud over them. His lips were soft, hers were chapped, and his bones rattled inside of his body while hers ached. She could taste the metallic tang of blood as they both bit at flesh. The liquid warmth coursing through her veins was supposed to be blood but it was something darker, something less honest that had quickly spread throughout her entire body.

He didn’t touch his ear.

The thought came to her so abruptly.  

_ So, she’s really mine? _

As if he had another thought.  __

_ I couldn’t even be a father. _

Right after he tells her he couldn’t marry her. 

_ Loose plans. _

He didn’t think...

_ There’s more to it that you’re not getting. _

The thought slammed into her body harder than a hammer nailing the last coffin into the ground.

Gwen ripped away from him, eyes staring at Blake’s confused face. 

“You knew.” She murmured, afraid that if she shouted it that it would become true either way. “You knew that I was pregnant. That’s the real reason why you didn’t get on that plane.”

If she thought his words pierced like bullets, she should have been paying more attention to his eyes. They flashed in an instant. 

“You knew.” 

“That wasn’t the reason--” 

“But you knew.” Her voice rose. 

“I thought…”  _ That you were pregnant.  _ “I didn’t think you’d…”  _ Keep the baby after I left.  _ “I hoped she wasn’t mine when I saw her.”

Gwen sucked in a breath, feeling as if someone was doing surgery on her again but this time, she was awake to feel every poke and prod, every cut and slice, every stitch and staple.  

This was not a romance…

Gwen’s eyes darkened when she could finally manage to stomach looking him in the eyes, again.

“At least you got one thing right here. She never was yours. And this...lets me know that she never will be.” 

 

This was war.

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of this, you'll have questions. Be patient my lovelies, all part of the plan.

“Honey, do you need any help?”

Gwen whirled around. Her mother sat at her kitchen island with a small glass of lemonade in hand. She was surrounded by Gwen’s attempt at cooking a roast. 

“No, I think I’m good. If you want to grate some cheese I’m sure Dad would appreciate it.”

Her mother shook her head. “I told him he’s lactose intolerant but he doesn't believe me. I think he can eat that salad without cheese, don’t you think?”

She smirked. “I’m outing you the minute he starts complaining.”

Patti laughed. “No loyalty. You’re just like your brother.”

Gwen smiled, stealing her mother’s glass and taking a sip of the homemade drink. Her eyes strayed to the living room where her father and husband sat watching some sports highlights. Dennis was sat in one of the recliners while Wyatt laid on the couch. His hand was in a cast, and his rib had healed, but his pelvis was still in bad shape. He had finally started going to physical therapy and could walk short distances with the help of a cane, but for the most part, Wyatt stayed in the house and on the couch until it was time to go to bed. His body needed time to rest and heal after the surgery. It had been two months since the accident and she was still in disbelief over what her life had come to, how much everything had changed. 

Wyatt couldn’t go to work, and would most likely never go back if his injuries didn’t heal the way he needed them to for clearance. Lani was oddly withdrawn, keeping to her room most days when she wasn’t asking to be dropped off at a friend’s house. Manó was mildly irritated every second of the day, and Gwen couldn’t fathom what could be bothering him to such an extensive degree. As for her, she worked from home. Gwen didn’t like the idea of hiring someone to look after Wyatt when she felt like that was her job. Besides everything else going to shit in her life, Gwen was thankful that the designs steadily poured out of her and she had the time to actually start and finish the work. 

The White House felt so far removed from her now.  _ He  _ felt so far away from her and she guessed that was the best thing to come out of all of this. She may have been in disbelief over what her life looked like, but she couldn’t even find the words to explain how she felt over everything that had happened between them. The only thing that kept circulating in her mind was that he finally knew the truth. And so did she. And the world didn’t fall apart. She might have lost the war but all of her people made it out in one piece, and that was all that she had to worry about. Him and his was not of her concern. And the more days that passed without a call, without a visit, without seeing him or hearing him or feeling him, the more Gwen could focus on rebuilding what she allowed them to destroy.

“You okay, honey?”

Gwen snapped out of her thoughts and smiled at her mother. “Yeah. I was just thinking of how nice it is to have you guys here. I appreciate you helping out. I know the kids are crazy right now and Wyatt…”

Her mother leaned across the counter and squeezed her hand. “You know everything passes right? This will get better. It may not look like it right now but this too will pass. You just gotta pray real hard and take it one day at a time.”

Gwen’s heart squeezed along with their connected flesh. “You always did know what to say, huh?” 

Her mother patted her hand and pulled away, snatching her lemonade back. “You always did know how to bounce back from a tough situation. Remember when you got that staph infection in your leg?” 

“Mom, I was twelve and I’m pretty sure the medicine and all of those doctors did all the work.”

Patti pointed at her. “But you stayed strong. You kept your faith. That’s hard work, too. I know you think comparing your leg to this is craziness but you’ve gotta be that little girl I saw in the hospital. You gotta be strong, Gwen. You gotta keep faith. And know that the only medicine for this is time and patience and love.”

She sighed and nodded, the words escaping her.

Time. Patience. Love. 

Gwen didn’t think wars were waged nor won with any of that in mind. 

Fortunately, she’s no longer being called to battle. 

 

=     

It was the vomit that Gwen smelled first. It hit her the moment she walked into the apartment. It was sharp, recent, thick. Her hand tightened instinctively on the door knob as she shut the door softly. There was an ache in her limbs as she set the bags on the floor, not caring that her purse and keys fell with them.

She had only gone to the store. She was gone maybe three hours. What he could have done in three hours she wasn’t sure but ever since Wyatt woke up this morning, he’d been aggravated, snappish, and mean even though she could tell he didn’t want to be, at least not to her. 

Gwen stepped out of her shoes and moved noiselessly to the bedroom. She found Wyatt there, in their bathroom, sprawled on his back, his chest heaving with each strangled breath. His right arm covered his eyes as she turned on the light, the muscles underneath pale skin standing out harshly as he clamped his fist. His left hand clutched spasmodically at his thigh. His clothes were spattered with vomit, and the floor was a mess of pills. A single bottle of vodka sat half empty in the corner by the toilet.

Gwen only noticed the dried water on his face when she drew closer, going to her knees and lifting his head up with an unsteady hand. He opened his eyes. They were bloodshot and damp with tears he’ll never admit to.

Even with the heaviness in her throat, the hotness behind her eyes, the tears she refused to shed, she asked. “What happened? What’s wrong? Why would you--?” She didn’t have it in her to continue that line of questioning.

There was no reply. She was sure he had a reason but just couldn’t tell her. At least not yet, not there, on a cold floor surrounded in his failure. 

Gwen managed to get him back in bed. Without the cane, he had to put most of his weight on her as they walked and Gwen’s aching limbs moaned at her efforts. She dressed him in new clothes, gave him water and a kiss before going to clean up the bathroom before the kids got home from the park.

He called out for her just as she was pouring the dirty mop water down the drain. Gwen came to him, slowly, and sat on the edge of the bed when his eyes demanded her to.

Wyatt swallowed, looking away. “I was in pain.”

“I’ll have the doctor up your dosage. You didn’t need to do that--”

“I wasn’t trying--I didn’t mean--” He sighed. “I just needed more to take the edge off. I can’t stand feeling like this anymore. The vodka helps it work faster, you know that. I turned around too fast and my hip--it just gave out on me and I fell. And the bottle spilled open and the--it just happened so fast. And the pain after the fall was excruciating...I threw up. It hurt so bad, I couldn’t stop vomiting. I’m sorry you had to--”

“Don’t apologize. It was a mistake, an accident.” 

Wyatt scoffed. “Yeah, I keep having those.”

She gave him a look. “Things  _ will _ get better. I know you’re in pain and itching to get back to work--”

“Just stop. I don’t want to hear some speech right now.”

She sighed. “What changed?”

Wyatt looked at her, confused. “What?”

“What changed between last week and this week? You’re moody. You’re mean. What changed? What can I do to make any of this better? Because I’m trying. I’m taking care of the kids, I’m taking care of you...I just want to know if I’m not doing something right.”

Wyatt looked over her shoulder, unable to meet her eyes. He said nothing for several minutes before finally, “I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry, too, you know. I wish this didn’t happen. I still don’t even know how it happened or why you were on that street to begin with--” 

“I told you. I was going to meet a friend for a drink.”

“Who?”

“One of the guys from base.”

She nodded, not even bothering to ask for a name. “Look. I think this place has given us blessings but I also think it’s done more bad than good. We’re just not cut out for this. Hawaii was home. We know how to  _ be  _ there.”

“Are you suggesting we move back?”

She nodded, biting her lip. 

“Where is this coming from?”

“I’ve had time to think about it. Two months really. The house is sitting there empty. I can go back to working at the dress shop and the base would welcome you back without hesitation, even if your injuries don’t get cleared. They need all the hands they can get and you know that. Besides, the kids would love it if we moved back. They miss their friends and their old schools. They’ve been so  _ angry  _ lately that this could be just what they need--what we all need.”

“That’s another huge move, Gwen.”

“But it’s the perfect time. We move by the end of summer and the kids start school back up in the fall.”

“I’m not saying I don’t want to. But we moved here for your job. What you suddenly don’t want it anymore?”

“I do. I do it’s just...our family is more important than some job. I can work anywhere. We can’t be happy everywhere.”

Wyatt stared at her for a long time before nodding. “We move at the end of summer.”

“Just like that?”

“I’ll hopefully be all the way back to normal by then and you still have time to let the First Lady know you won’t be staying and finish up some dresses, I don’t know. But yeah. Just like that.”

Gwen tried not to smile so hard but she couldn’t stop the excitement from spilling over into her voice as she said, “We’re going home.”

Wyatt smiled. “We’re going home, baby.”

 

=

 

Gwen did not have the heart to personally deliver her letter of resignation to Josie. She had her assistant do it for her and only went to the White House to pack her office and take the rest of it home with her. She managed to do it all without bumping in to anyone she’d rather not see. Koko had tried to tell her that Josie visited three times in hopes of catching the seamstress working or packing so that they could talk but had ultimately expressed to the young woman that she understood Gwen had a lot going on with Wyatt and the kids and that she hoped they could meet soon. Koko had said Blake visited once, and only once. 

She decided that she didn’t care and the only thing she owed anyone was at least one last meeting with Josie. She was her employer after all and gave her this wonderful opportunity to have her name be known as a respectable and unmatched dressmaker. She owed her a firm hug and an even firmer “thank you.” 

The problem was that she couldn’t find the time to say goodbye. Wyatt’s fall had set his physical therapy back by weeks and Gwen needed to tend to him more throughout the day and even at night. Her parents were wonderful when they had been there and her mother even stayed to help her out with the kids while her father had to go back to California to look after the garage. Lani and Manó were involved with summer sports and other extracurriculars that Gwen either had to make the decision to care after Wyatt or go to their events. More often than not, she ended up doing both, seeing to her husband while stealing an hour or two away to go to a practice or a game or a show. It was exhausting, and by the end of it all, all Gwen wanted to do was curl up in bed by herself and sleep until her body didn’t know the time or place in which it was in. 

The only thing that kept her together was knowing that she was going home in a few weeks. It was the best thing she and Wyatt could have done for their family. The kids were on board, excited to get back to their old lives albeit a little sad to leave the friends they did make here. Even Wyatt seemed happier even though he was in worst condition, and there was a tinge of sadness at leaving DC that she couldn’t quite place. She figured it had to do with the accident and immediately stopped that line of thought.

Gwen was only concerned with the here and now. She took it one day at a time, like her mother advised. Today, Wyatt made progress, and Gwen got to see both of her children star in a play down at the community theater. Her mother joined her after she gave Wyatt his meds and made sure his nap was going to be comfortable enough for him to be okay until they all got back. Gwen decided to treat everyone with a walk in the park and some ice cream at their favorite malt shop that they’d discovered from Josie. The small vanilla shake she got reminded her of Blake. He mentioned at that first dinner up at Camp David that it was his favorite. Vanilla malt, four cherries, and a serving of banana slices. 

She gave her side of banana to Manó so that he could dunk it in his lover’s chocolate shake and allowed Lani to eat two cherries off of her malt before consuming the last two herself. The experience was good and the ice cream satisfying and it was the first moment since the accident that Gwen felt like she had some semblance of a piece of mind.

After dessert, they travelled back home and Gwen went to Wyatt as soon as they got through the front door. He was sitting up in bed, tv remote in his hand, a small smile playing across his face. 

He turned to look at her and his smile widened. Her heart fluttered and she tilted her head, giving him an appraising look.

“I gotta pee.” Is all he said. 

Gwen laughed and walked over to his side of the bed, helping him swing his legs over the side and grabbing underneath his arms to help him stand. “Were you waiting long?”

“Long enough where that feeling of your balls are going to fall off set in about an hour ago.”

She grimaced. “Sorry. We stopped for ice cream. We brought some back for you if you want some after dinner.”

Wyatt thanked her and the two made their way to the en suite bathroom. Gwen closed the door once he was situated, knowing how much her husband didn’t like having to sit down just to take a piss, as he would say. It was emasculating, apparently. Gwen had rolled her eyes. 

When he was done, Gwen helped him stand to watch his hands and then lead him to the living room where he could sit with her mother and the kids. Wyatt immediately asked Lani and Manó about the play and the children spent most of the time Gwen spent cooking dinner telling him. 

She listened from afar, smiling to herself as she heard their excited voices. They had been so down lately that hearing them cheerfully recount their performances was a welcome change. 

The mother of two set the cornbread in the oven and joined them on the couch with a glass of water. The conversation had changed to Hawaii and her mother was telling them about a visit her and her father were planning to go see Dash and his family. The doorbell rang out through their apartment a moment later. Wyatt cocked his head back, frowning. 

“I got it.” Lani said, getting up from the couch and making her way to the small hallway and to the front door. 

Gwen took a sip of her water and smiled as Manó told them of his plans to build a spaceship once they got back home. 

“How big are we talking? Big enough for the whole family?” Wyatt asked. 

Their son nodded. “Well, big enough for us three. We’re leaving Lani here ‘cause she’s moody.”

“Shut up, dummy.” Lani snapped, walking back into the room. 

Her mother gasped, and Gwen’s heart quickened at the sight of two secret service agents and one president. 

“You want us to check the apartment, Sir?” One of the agents asked Blake. 

“No, it’s fine.” He said, eyes immediately landing on hers before moving away to Wyatt. 

“Mr. President.” Her husband greeted, neck strained as he turned to look behind the couch at the man. 

“Lieutenant Howlett. I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit you earlier.” Blake said, rounding the couch and asking permission to sit down next to the pilot. Wyatt shook his hand and smiled. 

“That’s alright. You have a whole country to run.”

Blake attempted to smile but it only reached his eyes, eyes which moved around the room and landed on her mother. Gwen saw the way Blake swallowed, roughly. 

“You must be Mrs. Stefani. I can see the resemblance.” He stood up again and her mother went to her feet, as well. “It’s nice to meet you…” Finally. Was what went unsaid. 

“The honor is mine. I can’t believe I’m meeting the President of the United States.” 

They shook hands briefly and this time Blake did smile. “The novelty will wear off, trust me.” 

“Hi, Blake.” Manó beamed at the man. 

“Hey, Manó. How’s the designs for the spaceship coming?” Blake asked him and Gwen wondered how he knew about that. It seemed like every time she turned around there was more things that she didn’t have answers to. 

“Really good.” 

“Glad to hear it.” 

There was a moment of awkward silence before the oven chimed and Gwen stood up, not moving to go to the kitchen but not wanting to stay there where Blake’s impossibly blue eyes bore into her. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Mr. President.” Wyatt, much to Gwen’s surprise, invited. 

“I can’t. Josie is having a small get together with some friends.” He said, feigning disappointment. “I just came by to see how you were doing and wish you all well. I heard about Hawaii. My wife is devastated to be losing Gwen’s talent and your family’s company.” 

Everything was said with so much finality, so much grace, and so very little feeling. It all seemed impersonal. She expected him to be just as devastated at her leaving. She expected anger and raw sadness. He was giving her none of that. 

“Can you tell Jack and Teddy that I’ll miss them but that they can come and visit Hawaii anytime?” Manó asked, eyes shining. 

Blake grinned. “Of course. They’re sad you’re leaving. But know you’re always welcome to come and visit here, too.” 

“We will.” Her son said with no trace of doubt in his voice. 

The timer went off again. 

“I’ll grab it.” Her mother said. 

Blake looked from her to Lani. Her daughter was steadily looking down at the floor, seated next to her dad. Gwen prayed so hard that Blake would keep his mouth shut. The more he looked the more she became afraid until Blake snapped his head away and exhaled. 

“Well, I should be going. Gwen...Josie gives her best. And she wanted me to tell you thank you.”

So his wife knew he was here. Somehow, the thought further depressed her. 

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, anymore, from him. Did she want him to beg her not to go? For him to tell her how sorry he was? For things to continue on in their horrible cycle of pain and grief? 

Blake bid his farewells and headed for the door. Each step took the breath from her lungs until she thought she was going to burst. 

“Mr. President?” Her voice sounded small, and unsure, and nothing like her. But he turned around and for a second, she thought she saw hope flash in his eyes before disappearing altogether. “I have some finished outfits for Josie. If you want to help me get them from my office?” 

His mouth shifted. “Tom, come help us.” He said to the agent and waited for her to lead the way. 

“I’ll be right back.” She told her family. Wyatt nodded, attention already focused back on Manó as he started up again. 

She could feel Blake’s eyes on her as they walked down the hallway, stopping right outside her office door. Once inside, she had no idea why she even kept him from leaving in the first place. All she knew was that she didn’t want him to go like that, a stranger, impersonal, hating her. A thought in her head said she should be hating him, too. Maybe she did. 

She had hoped to be alone with him but his agent--Tom--was positioned in the corner, head up but not looking directly at them. Blake was looking around the room and for the first time since he had arrived, Gwen took him in without fear of being found out. 

His hair was longer, frazzled in appearance and yet it looked like it had a ton of gel layered throughout the curls. His suit was freshly pressed, his shoes freshly shined, but his eyes had bags and his cheeks drooped. He looked how she felt most days. 

“Where are the dresses?” He finally asked, eyes returning to her. 

“Blake--” 

He held a hand up. “Please, don’t. You said to let you go. I’m letting you go. Where are the dresses?” 

If she thought she could do it, whatever she wanted to do with him here, alone with her, she couldn’t either. So, she did the only thing that made sense. She retrieved the creations and handed them to him, only for Tom to intervene, taking the bags of clothing himself. 

“You’ll tell Josie goodbye for me?” She asked him, feeling like a coward that she still hadn’t done that herself. 

Blake nodded, eyes roaming over her face. He looked like he was committing her features to memory. “Goodbye, Gwen.” 

The air did not return to her lungs like she thought it would. He was finally letting her go. He was giving her everything back, her family, her heart, her mind and body, her free will. And she couldn’t even breathe. 

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair and yet it was everything she wanted. 

 

=

 

The White House wasn’t known to accept guests or employees during irregular working hours. Even though there was a guard and a gate man as she pulled up to the entrance, it was likely that she wouldn’t be able to get in. So Gwen was mildly surprised when it was Allen, her favorite gate employee, that greeted her at the late hour. She told him about collecting some last minute fabrics from her office and was granted permission to enter the property without any problems. 

It was going on eleven in the evening. Dinners were over, bedtime stories were read, and in her case, Wyatt was dead to the world after taking his pain medicine. Her mother was uncharacteristically up, watching some late night soap opera. She had told her she was going to the bar to pick up a drunk friend and drive them home. She was not met with any resistance. Not at home and not at the White House where Gwen travelled along the halls with a help of an aid, venturing into a part of the House that she had never been before. 

The halls were silent save for the odd worker here and there. When they reached the West Wing, she was surprised to see a good amount of workers still milling about. It was late, too late, and they were mostly chatting, some typing away on computers, others eating a night snack quietly at their desks. 

“When the president stays late, about forty workers stay until he packs up for the night.” The aid had told her. She was a small thing, with blue eyes and black hair and an open face. 

Gwen nodded. At least she confirmed that he was still up. She was afraid that she was going to have to have someone wake him up. And wouldn’t that be awful and embarrassing?

They rounded a hall and landed themselves right outside of the oval. There was a woman at the desk. She looked up and straightened her spine, on guard. The secret service agent, the same from earlier, was standing by the door.  

“Andrea this is Gwen Stefani.” The aid introduced her and bid her a good night as her job was finished. 

“Gwen Stefani? The stylist?” 

Gwen nodded. “I was hoping--I wanted to talk to him--to the president...if that’s okay. Is he still in there?” 

Andrea looked perplexed, and then she looked unsure. “He is. I don’t think he’s expecting you.” 

She swallowed. “Please.” 

For some inexplicable reason, Gwen felt like Andrea knew her, or better yet, them. Like the younger woman was privy to their tumultuous relationship and had the power right then and there to end it for them. Gwen almost wished that she had. But instead, Andrea stood and waved her over. The secretary knocked softly and then opened the door, leading her into the office. 

“Mr. President.” 

Blake was at his desk, writing. His eyes never looked up. “No. I’m not ready to leave. Tell the kiddos they can go home expect for Sam and Greg.” 

“I will, Sir. But there’s someone here for you.” 

“I’m not seeing anyone from the department.” He continued his writing, sparing a glance at the door and then doing a double take when he saw her. 

He dropped his pen, his eyes going wide. “Gwen.” 

Andrea sheepishly walked out, closing the door behind her. 

“Hi.” 

“What are you doing here?” He stood up but didn’t move to walk over to her. 

Gwen clutched her bag, feeling the hard photo book inside. “I um...I needed to see you. I needed to know that we--you weren’t…” She stopped after a minute of fumbling with her words. 

He looked at her with his head bowed, his hair in its wild cut sticking out at all angles around his face. “We’re finished.” 

The words were a statement. A fact. A truth. And to her, something about them was finished. Something gone and damaged without repair. But they weren’t just that one thing. They never were. 

“Are we?” She asked. 

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” 

She refused to look up at him. “I wanted to know why it feels like you’re erasing me out of your life instead of just letting me go.” 

“You know I don’t want you to.” 

“What’s the alternative?” 

“Stay--” 

“And do what? Wait for you not to be president? Wait for you to divorce your wife and me to leave Wyatt? For our kids to hate us?” 

“Yes. Because this isn’t a romance. We don’t all get to be happy at the end of the day.” 

“That’s being selfish.” 

“That’s being in love.” 

She sighed and moved. He followed her. She took a step back along the wall and knocked into a small table holding a small vase of flowers. It toppled in a clamouring crash, and she turned to survey the damage, wincing. 

The door opened and Tom came in. 

“It’s fine.” Blake told him, dismissing him with a nod of his head. 

“Sorry,” Gwen whispered after he left, bending to pick up the pieces. 

She felt a hand on her arm. “Leave it.” 

“It’s probably worth more than my entire life.” 

“It’s old and ugly. Leave it.” He said, sliding his arm around her waist as she stood up, pulling her back against his chest. His other arm slid around her, lower, around her hips. They slid over her jeans and under her sweater. He buried his face in her shoulder. She tensed. 

Her arms were at her sides, staring down at the floor, at the mess, as his arms encircled her from behind, his breath hot on her neck. It was all happening, again. 

“Blake…”

“Don’t go.” 

It took a great deal of effort to extract herself from his embrace. She turned around and sighed. His eyes were so full of love that she had to close hers to it. Despite everything, she did not come here for that. He must have read her thoughts because he sighed and backed away, prompting her to open her eyes again, but they weren’t anywhere on his person. 

“I know you don’t want my love. So I won’t say it. Fuck love.” Her eyes snapped to him. “I like you.” He continued. “I  _ like  _ you, Gwen.” 

“Blake--” 

“I like your nose. And your mouth and your eyes. I like the fact they’re brown because every other color is boring.” Her heart picked up speed, her face screwed up into one of confusion as to why he was telling her these things. But he went on. “I like the fact that your hair is the perfect color to fall asleep to. Even if it’s not blonde, anymore.”

Recognition dawned in her soul. He was quoting his words from thirteen years ago. When he stumbled drunk into the dance studio and walked her to her car and she foresaw what they were going to do to each other. She knew the pain they’d eventually bring to each other’s doorsteps. It was the same night that he thanked her for being the one. He just hadn’t specified which one because the only thing she was good for now was breaking his heart in an effort to protect her own.

“Gwen--” 

“Please, stop.” 

“I like that I can make you laugh like no one else ever could. That’s what you said. So even if you hate me, even if you leave me, I know how much I mean to you ‘cause I know how much  _ that _ means to you. Even if you don’t love me anymore, at least tell me you still like me. Then I’ll know I still stand a chance. I’ll know you’re still out there and that we’re okay.”

He stared at her, stared through the haze of the thousand thoughts clogging his head. His gaze was like a physical touch. Everything else faded as they shared this look that probably meant nothing in the long run, but had her heart seizing, had her body heating. All she wanted to do was say goodbye to the Blake that had fathered her child, that had made her the most happy once upon a time, that was a part of her soul, her history, her love. She didn’t want to say goodbye to the stranger that had entered her apartment and spilled empty promises to her family. Not that man. Never that man. Only this one.  

“I like you.” 

It was as close as to a goodbye that she could stomach. The way his eyes crinkled without even smiling told her that this was as close to him letting her go that they were ever going to get. 

They met in the middle. Finally. No one waved a white flag but they had stopped taking shots at one another. The air filled her lungs. She was the one to walk away from him this time. 

The only thought in her head was that she hoped it wasn’t another thirteen years before they would meet again. When she gave the photo album to Andrea to give to him, pictures filled with Lani as a baby, a toddler, and a teen, all memories that he never got to make with his daughter, something in the back of her mind told her it wouldn’t take him that long to find them again. 

The thought didn’t unsettle her.

It moved her.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter has a lot of stuff that I'm sure will answer all your questions and make you think of new ones lol.   
> below are pictures of the kids all grown up and then an added fella.   
> enjoy!

  
  
  
  


There was salt in the air. If Blake were to hold his hand out, the salt would cling to his fingers, just enough to make them feel a little chalky if he rubbed them together. 

He did so slowly, as he rested back against the outdoor chaise and continued to peer at the wide expanse of land he’s come to admire as his back yard.

There was a pool, too big for his tastes, and unnecessary considering the ocean was right there, but Teddy and Jackson saw no flaw in the size nor the design as they invited their friends from school over the years. Their house was a hit for the entire neighborhood, although Blake had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with a former president and First Family living there than anything else.

But the house was impressive all on its own before the Shelton family came along. It was old, built in the 1920s. But it was beautiful. With its nine bedrooms, beautiful gardens that lined the edges of the property, flagstone terraces, and eight and a half stoned bathrooms. It was a dream. Josie certainly had no problem calling the beaux arts inspired mansion her home when they first moved in.

“Dad.” A deep voice floated over Blake’s shoulder. He swore it was just yesterday that same voice was lighter, sweeter, younger. 

“If you’re here for money my pockets are empty. Teddy ran me dry yesterday.” Blake smiled to the birds and the trees. It wasn’t exactly true. They always had money, something he was inherently grateful for but he didn’t like giving his kids a portion of the family’s net worth without seeing his sons work for it. Ever since they turned into teenagers, it was like the money never stopped flowing out. 

A perfectly, cold, beer appeared next to his right shoulder, a tanned hand slid the bottle onto the small reed table by his bare feet. Jackson walked around until he was stood in front of his father. Blake looked at his oldest son as he sat in the chaise across from him. 

Eighteen suited the boy quite nicely. Jack’s golden brown hair had only darkened as he got older. He kept it at a good length, long enough to show it had some curl, short enough to where it wasn’t unruly anymore. His hazel eyes leaned on the green side but still held that childlike glint. With the sun, his freckles had all but disappeared. Blake found it amusing that Jackson looked more like him the older he got. When he was younger, he was almost the spitting image of his mother. 

“Can’t a son just enjoy a beer with his father on this fine day in Honolulu?” Jack asked, smirking as he took a swig from his own bottle.

Blake smirked, reaching for his wallet tucked into his shirt pocket. He produced a couple of hundred dollar bills one handed and gave it over to the adult. “Don’t buy prostitutes, drugs, or alcohol with that money.” 

Jackson rolled his eyes. “I wanted to buy more film for the camera.”

“Oh, well, then by all means, run the well dry for  _ film _ .” 

Blake was sure his son would lose his eyeballs with how far they went back that time. 

“Are you all packed for next week?” Jackson asked, changing the subject. 

The former president looked out at the pool once more. “Not yet.”

“Better get on it before Mom picks out your clothes and you’re stuck wearing suits in ninety degree weather.”

Blake chuckled. “Oahu won’t be that hot.”

Jack shrugged. “You never know. Lani checked and said it was clear skies and scorching temperatures.” 

The mention of her name made the older man wince. He faked like it was because of the sun shining in his eyes over the canopy because of Jackson. “Yeah, well, let’s hope it doesn’t feel like hell when we’re there.” In more ways than one, he thought.

“I’m kind of excited. In all my eighteen years I’ve never been to a wedding.”

“They’re only fun if there’s an open bar.”

“Mom would never let me drink.”

“She will if she’s drunk herself.”

Jackson laughed, his deep voice matching Blake’s when he was that age. 

His son stood up slowly, grabbing his beer as he went. “We can only pray. I gotta get this film before the store closes. I’ll see you at dinner, Pops.” 

Blake nodded, watching as Jack pocketed the money and leaned down to give his father a kiss on the head before going back inside. 

He didn’t want to think about the wedding but his thoughts could conjure nothing else to distract him from his daughter’s upcoming nuptials. It was bad enough that he didn’t even know she was dating anyone, let alone engaged all this time. He supposed that was the point, though. 

Eight years ago, he had the chance to know her, to make an effort, but that wasn’t in the cards for them. When Gwen had left, his connection with Lani went with them. It was understood when that photo album made it into his hands that he was given something only  _ he _ made sure he deserved. Photographs of memories he would never be apart of, proof that she had lived and loved and cried and hurt all without knowing his existence. Isn’t that what he had done when he got onto that plane instead of going to Gwen and the baby she was carrying? He had lived without ever seeking Lani out. He had laughed and cried and loved and made memories with other children, with another woman. 

He had no right to feel what he was feeling now. He made the decision. He had to live with the consequences. Even if one of them was watching Lani get married to a boy he didn’t know, getting walked down the aisle by a man who did not father her but was more of a dad than he could have ever been, starting a whole new life without ever knowing the truth. 

It stung but Blake had been through worse. He was just happy that their families were close enough for Lani to invite them or else he might not ever have known anything about the twenty year old’s life. It wasn’t like the kids hadn’t kept in touch all these years for him to ever inquire but this way was better. No one ever visited the other, despite promises from before, but social media and texting kept the Shelton and Howlett children connected. And then they moved to Honolulu after his four years were up. Eight in total and they had not once thought about living in Hawaii until Blake mentioned it one night over dinner. It was met with resistance at first, but then the idea took root and wouldn’t let the Shelton family go until they finally made the decision. 

The kids were older then. Able to make choices and friendships without the interference from their parents, though they’d never try to interfere in the first place. The fact that they were all closer, just an island away, only simplified things. Before he knew it, both sets of children were taking short flights over to see one another. Jackson and Lani swiftly became best buds when they bonded over film and photography, each taking careful measures to send their works to each other via mail and email when apart. They were fourteen and sixteen when the whole thing started. Now, they had done numerous projects with each other, garnering attention from the world thanks to Blake’s celebrity and their genuine artistic talents and visions. They grew closer as friends, and remained that way over the years. 

Teddy and Manó were a different story. They talked maybe once or twice a year over the phone about something other than games or space. But mostly, the boys played online with one another every so often, keeping that connection alive with so little means until they could see each other in person throughout the summer months. 

Blake only knew what his kids felt like sharing with him at the time and what he felt like he could ask when Lani or Manó, sometimes both, came to the house. Despite their children remaining in close contact, Blake and Gwen had not once talked in these past eight years. When the whole thing started with their children, it was Josie and Gwen who did all the facilitating. And even then, they did not visit one another or talk as best friends would. It seemed like that part of their friendship had disappeared when Gwen resigned and fled back home. He had no idea what she was doing, or the state of her life, other than another child having been brought into the fold. He could never gather the courage to ask after that. Just like he could never gather the courage to start a relationship with Lani when the girl was over his house. He always wanted to talk to her, ask her about her life, offer any help he could give and that she might need. But he kept that distance. Somewhere deep down, he knew Gwen was hesitant about letting Lani visit Jackson because she didn’t want things to change between Lani and her biological father. Blake guessed over the years, she stopped worrying because Blake proved to be a coward in that regard.

He didn’t know how his life had become what it was. But what he did know was that their daughter was getting married, and said daughter had invited the Shelton family, of course, and he was pissing himself for more than one reason when it came to the entire affair. 

Suddenly, the salty air had become oppressive. 

He rose from his chaise and reached for the sweating beer with his good hand, his left, carrying it with him as he walked back inside the house, thanking whoever it was that created air condition.

Sheer curtains flitted about as the wind, turned soft breeze in the house, floated in from the open doors to the terrace. Josie was cooking dinner in the kitchen. Blake decided to settle on the couch beside Teddy, who was playing a game on the t.v. He barely got a hello out of his sixteen year old has he killed some sort of alien looking creature on screen. 

Blake sipped his beer and let his head fall against the back of the chair as the breeze slid through his hair like a woman’s fingers. The woman inhabiting his daydreams had never seize to appear, or change. He hoped a similar breeze was caressing her body in Oahu. The thought moved him. 

 

=

 

“Mommy, can I go to the gift shop?”

Gwen looked up from her phone, trying and failing to get ahold of Manó. His flight had touched down twenty minutes ago and she wanted to hear his voice, see how far his car was away from the resort. 

It had been six months since he decided to travel to Rome over the year. She had heard from him sparingly, and now, being in the same country as him again, let alone the same state, gave her such a jolt of excitement.

The mother of three looked down at her youngest child, only eight, a year that still tickled her insides and sighed. “Your brother will be here shortly.”

“I promise I’ll be quick.” Silas begged her. 

Gwen’s heart softened when she looked at him, at his perfect chestnut hair and his father’s perfect blue eyes. He looked so much like Wyatt when the ex pilot was that age.

“Fine. But stay close to where I can see you and don’t talk to anyone but the clerk.” She handed him ten dollars and watched as he skipped over to the small shop. 

Gwen’s eyes strayed to the little kiosk desk that was to the left of the store. It was where arrivals could find transportation around the island from the hotel. She was bored sitting there, nervous even with every second her phone didn’t chime with an alert from Manó. Gwen’s eyes busied her, choosing to study the man at the receptionist desk, talking to the resort employee.

He was tall, so tall that he reminded her of someone. He wore snug jeans, dark brown boots, and a close-fitting green button up. His curly hair was a mix of caramel and sand, with the odd lemony highlight and grey streak that came only from being a natural blonde and older years. It was a bit long, in that floppy way that was handsome, with the slightest tendency to curl around his ears. The long sleeves were pushed up to reveal equally bronzed forearms dusted with light brown hair. When the man glanced at his watch, she noticed two things: the way his muscles rippled in said forearm, and that the limb held a mangled looking wrist and a hand with scarred fingers that bent gruesomely. 

Her heart slammed in her chest, suddenly. 

No way.

_ No way.  _

And then, as if God was answering her prayer, he turned to glance out the windows, briefly. Gwen caught her breath at the sight of his profile. To that familiar arched brow, firm chin, and sloping nose.

Blake.

She was caught unaware for a moment, and hadn’t noticed when he moved away from the desk, grabbing the leather weekend bag at his feet. She was too consumed with the moment that she almost missed the little party he was travelling with. 

Teddy and Jackson. 

It had only been a couple of months since she last saw the two boys. And they never failed to look even taller every time they visited. 

They were eighteen and sixteen, an age Manó was caught between. Jackson always seemed to look so much like his father, same build, same expression, same walk. She remembered the boy’s hair being lighter, his face being smaller. But he was nothing of the little boy she had met eight years ago. He was always somehow handsomer.  

Theodore was not far behind his brother. His hair had darkened as well, though, only a little. It was cut short, so that his hair looked straight, save for the length at the top, which was swept to the side and curling in his right eye. His eyes were that bright blue, his lips pouty, his nose reminiscent of that of his mother’s. In fact, he looked more like Josie than he ever had before. Unlike his brother’s broad stature, Teddy was still skinny, looking like one of those artsy kids that Lani hung out with at university. He was a pretty boy, something that Gwen had never pictured Blake having in all the years she’s known the man. 

The kids were standing next to Blake, the oldest talking on his phone, the youngest listening to music, drowning out the resort noise with his wireless earphones. They each had one leather bag next to them, except for one plush carry on that was a pastel pink. She assumed it was Josie's although the woman was nowhere to be seen.

Gwen sat back and looked away, hoping she wouldn’t be spotted so easily as they were. She knew she would have to see them, but she didn’t think it would be this soon. She only came to the resort that day to help Wyatt with some last minute preparations for the hula-out they were having right there on the beach in a couple days time. Since the wedding would have tons of celebrations and festivities before the actual event, Wyatt would be needing a few extra hands to help with the guests that were already staying at the resort and the ones that would be coming in for the nuptials. At least this way, she had time to prepare to see her ex and his family, again. She was wholly unprepared for this right now. Was as unprepared when Lani decided to invite the entire former First Family when they were doing invitations. 

The mother of three knew that their children kept in touch. She was even supportive when Lani started doing photography projects with the oldest Shelton son. They got along, they made beautiful art together, and she saw how happy it made Lani to find someone who had her same artistic vision. Even Manó’s and Teddy’s relationship, which really only consisted of playing online and talking about space designs, had not bothered her. She had not minded seeing the First Children in these eight years and during the kids’ blossoming friendships. She also didn’t have to talk to Blake, only Josie, when the kids started visiting between the islands. It was just understood that their kids did all the talking and they were background props. It suited her just fine. 

The fact that Lani felt inclined to invite the whole family instead of just Jackson had nerved her. It wouldn’t be right, considering how everyone was so connected with the situation and the kids, this Gwen knew, but it would have certainly made the whole affair a lot easier. Not that her daughter getting married at the age of twenty was anything but easy, but she made do. She always did. Silas was proof of that.

Her phone buzzed in her hand and Gwen looked down to see her son calling. She answered right away. “Manó! Where are you? Me and your brother are waiting at the resort.”

“The flight was early so they held us at the gate. I just got my bag. I’m on my way to you guys, now.”

“Okay. We’ll be here...I missed you so much. I love you.”

Manó chuckled, his voice deeper but still sounding so angelic. “I love you, too, Mom. See you in five!” He hung up and Gwen smiled happily, looking to the gift shop just in time to see Silas running back over to her, a bag flapping wildly in his little hands. The clerk was Mari, and she would always refuse to let the Howlett family pay since they owned the resort, but Gwen was not having any of it and was glad to see proof of purchase when Silas saddled up beside her.  

She steered him away from her official guests and over to the deck entrance where a couple of restrooms were located. “What did you get?” She asked, softly. 

Silas opened the bag and she took a peek inside. “Chocolate? S.J. we have chocolate at home.” 

Silas shrugged. “We don’t have hotel chocolate at home.” 

Gwen laughed. “Okay, you got me there, noodle.”

He grinned up at her and leaned into her side, burying his face in her stomach. Together, they waited for Manó. The smile had not left her face, thoughts of anyone and anything else leaving her so suddenly like a breeze racing the wind.

 

=

 

“They rented out the whole resort?” 

Jackson nodded at his brother. “I guess Lani’s fiance’s family is rich and the guy’s dad didn’t want to put Mr. Howlett out for the week.”

“I thought we were rich?” Teddy asked, looking out the window as they pulled up to the resort. 

“No. We’re  _ wealthy.  _ Right Dad?” 

Blake had his eyes closed, the back of his head leaned elegantly along the back of the taxi seat. “We have money. Let’s leave it at that.”

Teddy smacked his lips but otherwise dropped the topic of conversation as they pulled up to the front entrance. 

They were greeted by friendly employees and even friendlier guests who had recognized the former president and his sons immediately. Blake wanted to get away from the attention quickly and tried to check in as fast as possible. The bags were brought to their respective rooms. Teddy and Jackson shared an en suite while Blake and Josie occupied another. 

Blake tipped the boy that brought his and her luggage up and promptly shut the door. He moved to the balcony while Josie went to take a shower, listening for clicks of door latches as he watched the sun swim steady across the horizon. No one came to the room, no one bothered them as he sat there and watched the sky transform, until that giant ball of heat and light dropped into the water where it burned and sank and melted. 

Blake went inside only to order dinner and text his children of their whereabouts. He got messages saying that Teddy was eating down at the beach with some young people that he had already met, the social butterfly he was, and Jackson was taking his meal down at the restaurant so that he could take photographs well into the night. Both of his sons were raised well enough to handle themselves, regardless of the environment or situation. He trusted them and went about enjoying his relaxing night before things wholefully changed the following day.

He answered the door after awhile, allowing the waiter to arrange his meal and wine on the balcony table. He passed the young man a single bill, and settled in for more hours of solitude and peace, save for his wife. 

They worked through a nice soup and salad that did not require the use of two hands considering he only had the one good one. And when he was finished, he put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside of their door and rested in bed. The heat was unbearable. He hadn’t set foot in Oahu in over a decade. He had not remembered the air feeling like this. His skin was damp, and he was uncomfortable and restless. 

When he woke in the morning, he was naked and tangled hopelessly in damp white sheets with Josie laying across his back. They hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning all night. 

They ate breakfast down in the restaurant with their kids. 

“You guys have to change because we’re going swimming down at the beach.” Teddy told them after he finished slurping down a mango and banana smoothie. 

“Are we now?” Josie glanced at Blake and then to his ruined hand. 

“ _ I’m  _ getting drunk and building sand castles. But by all means, go  _ swimming _ .” Blake smirked. 

“You’re such a baby.” Josie teased him. 

The four of them traveled back upstairs and Blake led his wife to the room. With promises of being down soon, Teddy and Jackson went out to the beach and found a spot amongst a few guests. Blake and Josie enjoyed a quickie as they attempted to change into their respective bathing suits. True to his word, Blake ordered a pitcher of margarita when they got down to the beach and had nearly downed half of it before Josie and the kids even got to the mid way point of the sea where tides were too rough to swim without gear. He watched them splash and swim together for a long time. Josie had looked so young as she smiled and laughed below and above the water. 

It was his biggest regret in his marriage. Cheating on Josie. And when Gwen left him, he turned into a person that was so unbearable to live with it and love that Blake was still surprised his wife hadn’t divorced him for that alone. It was his last year in office when he finally worked up the nerve to reveal to Jo that he had been unfaithful. He didn’t tell her who, even though that was the only question she really wanted answered. Part of him thought she already knew it was Gwen. But even so, by revealing that secret, he set not only himself and Gwen free, but Josie as well. He gave her the decision to stay with him or leave after they would leave the White House. Her decision surprised him. 

She wanted to stay married for the kids. They were only twelve and fourteen at the time and still in school, still in the public eye. They didn’t need to go through a family separating and the whole world prying and judging them for something that was out of their control. The agreement was to stay together until Teddy was eighteen. By then, both boys would be at college and living their own lives away from their parents decisions and actions. In the meantime, they’d live in the same house, go out as a family, which was at first hard to do. It wasn’t until Josie had forgiven him that things got easier. And then somehow, their relationship had strengthened over the years while living in Honolulu. They talked more, did things just for the two of them, and even had sex occasionally that Josie always instigated. It didn’t seem like they would break up in two years time, but then again, Blake wouldn’t push his luck, and he wouldn’t ask her for fear that her decision and feelings hadn’t changed. He didn’t even know what he wanted, so he wasn’t going to force the issue. 

This arrangement worked for all of them. The kids were happy, and he and Josie were fine. It wasn’t bad. Maybe unconventional, but the people who wouldn’t understand were people who weren’t in the public eye 24/7. Besides, it wasn’t anyone’s business but their own. 

Josie eventually got out and left the boys to themselves. They started playing a game of who could hold their breath under the water longest without dying. From his perch, it looked like Teddy was the winner. 

“I can’t believe we’re here.” 

Blake looked over to his wife. She had settled down next to him in a chair. Her profile was perfect. The years hadn’t aged her a bit except for the laugh lines running across her face in all the right places. 

“In Hawaii?” He asked. 

She nodded. “Yeah, but also here. I mean, I can’t remember a time where we were this happy and we’re not even together.”

He barely flinched. “I think the happiest we’ve ever been was when we first met.” He thought out loud. 

“But this is a close second.”

He nodded. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

That’s how conversations went with them now. They were short, pleasant, amicable. The years had changed them but the years to come would only bring them closer, he was sure of it. Josie was his wife, his partner for so many years, the mother of his children. If it couldn’t be Gwen, then it would always be Josie. And Blake was just fine with that. 

They stayed at the beach until lunch, which was ate sitting out over the restaurant’s terrace. It wasn’t a quiet affair, with the boys holding most of the conversations and the adults adding in their two cents. When the meal was over, Josie decided to take the kids out on the jet skis while Blake chose to go for a hike. He didn’t like the water sports considering he could no longer swim like he once could. And he didn’t know if he’d have the time to hike into the forest with the impending nuptials. Tomorrow would start the week long activities leading up to the ceremony. From what Jack told them, all the guests were more than welcome, in fact, encouraged, to participate in the festivities. Blake figured it was the groom’s family putting on the entire charade. But helicopter rides, camping, beach parties, and boat outings sounded just fine to him. 

He just wanted to take a hike before the craziness settled in and he was forced to see people he had wronged more times than he can count in his life. 

Blake went back to his room to change into a pair of cargo shorts and a white t-shirt. He packed a small backpack with water, granola bars, and bug spray, deciding that was all he needed for a couple of hours.

He caught a glimpse of his family all out on the water when he walked to the entrance to one of the trails. He smiled and began his hike. 

It was three hours spent, trekking through crawling vines and merciless undergrowth. He felt his lungs burn with the hot air but a little water helped keep the scorching blaze he swallowed every five seconds at bay. But that first breath after a clean swallow made his heart swell. It was all damp heat, misty odors rising from the earth’s floor, and way too many sounds. It was nature and he hadn’t had a taste of it for so long now. 

Eventually, he came to the edge of a path as it met a stretch of water, the near surface of it blanketed in nothing but fallen yellow flowers. The water was clear, strikingly so. Blake had to squint against the glaring sun but managed to see how the rays of light poured themselves onto the pond and created a golden plate reflecting stilted shadows of trees and leaves around the rim. 

And then he saw them in the water. He was sure it was them. Manó and some other child, a small boy, couldn’t be older than ten. And her. Gwen.

He stood still, blinking the sun from his eyes as he soaked the image in his head. Manó was taller than he last saw him, older, blonder. His hair had always reminded Blake of the waves, a strawberry gold that was so light it reflected angelically off the water. His blue eyes were the same clear color, holding oceans. He was handsome, with his pale skin that held the slightest tan and his sharp looks. The boy beside him, diving into the water every time his older partner threw some shabby rock into the clearing, reminded him of Wyatt, except darker. His hair was brunette, the color of coffee, but his eyes matched the Lieutenant’s.

And then he focused on her. He examined the bikini top that stuck to her skin. He could see her navel, and thoughts flashed in his head, thoughts that made him want to press his thumb into the dip there, to feel her pulse through the skin. She had a strong artery nearby, the one that made a stomach flutter in rhythm when one was lying down. He would feel her muscles, too, tight and tense and wanting under his hand. 

He saw her small round breasts outlined by the wetsuit, and pebbled nipples warning her of inappropriate temperatures as she got in and out of the water on her son’s command and gazes that Blake couldn’t help but bestow upon her form. He wanted to chuckle at the thought of her body knowing he was there before her mind could tell her. 

She moved a little, the splashes stopped, and he saw that her body went rigid with anticipation. As his gaze crept higher, he saw that she was looking at him. The milk of her exposed skin turned red, a creeping flush of rose-tinted emotion like the shadow of a retreating dusk. He had gotten more weary, more romantic over the years, yearning and going without. But even so, she was the best painting. She would always be a work of art that only his eyes were best suited for. Any normal man couldn’t take this much beauty, this much age and experience and memories. Only him. 

She waded through the water, telling her offspring to stay put, and of course that was her kid. Of course, she had another child. He knew that. Tried to block it out for four years. It was fitting. Her and him. This crazy thing that they decided to embark on in this life. He lost a hand, she gained a child. 

Gwen drew closer, walking out of the pond, water dripping from her pale body. He didn’t know how she could be surrounded by sun 24/7 and not be as tan as he was just by sitting out for a couple of hours. 

Everything was so amusing to him. Them meeting here like this, completely random. Her looking the way she did at him, his body and soul doing somersaults in his chest. He thinks he has to laugh or else it would all be too much. 

She was still blushing as she stood before him. He wanted the blood blooming beneath her skin just as much as he wanted to live out his days on a beach with a vodka sprite in his hands and the sun warming his old limbs.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Her voice was almost a whisper so low it could barely be heard. He guessed that was the point.

And he wanted to say,  _ because what I am to do but stare at you? And because I want to trail my fingers over skin that never tans and make it blush like this, always. _

Instead, “Our daughter is getting married.”

It’s not what he meant to say, but Blake knew he wanted to say it,  _ needed  _ to say it, because it had been weighing heavy on his mind. 

Gwen’s eyes widened, and he didn’t think she ever thought as Lani as there’s since the girl came into this world. 

There was light splashing, just behind them. The boys were playing again. Blake felt the heat radiate from her body, the sun beginning to evaporate the damp immediately. 

“I know.” She said slowly, cautioned as if it would send him running like he had done twenty years ago.

“She’s too young.” He said, because it had been bothering him, as well. 

“I know.” She repeated. 

“It’s good to see you.” 

That caught her unawares again and Gwen’s body tensed. “It’s been eight years. I don’t know what I thought I would say to you when I saw you again…” Her eyes strayed down to his ruined hand and then to where the bullet had punctured his chest, covered by the light shirt he was wearing. “I’m sorry.” 

Blake grimaced. That was probably not what  _ she  _ meant to say, but what she wanted and needed to say, as well. It had probably been weighing heavy on her mind, too. No doubt she would have been glued to the television screen that night, and the day following. Hell, maybe even the week.

“It’s okay. It’s been four years.”

She looked uneasily at him. Gwen was about ready to say something when Manó’s low voice enveloped them like a warm hug. 

“S.J. wants to get ice cream at the parlor. Figured we would head back, soon.” The seventeen year old’s eyes landed on him. 

“Hey, Manó.”

The boy’s similar blue eyes regarded him. “Hey, Blake. Glad to see you made it, okay.”

A puff of air left his chest at the sound of his first name falling from the boy’s lips. He couldn’t explain it but not hearing any formalities coming from Gwen’s children never ceased to soften his heart. Maybe it was because he didn’t like them thinking of him as other people, as someone they didn’t have to hold any affection or kindness for. It was a selfish way to think and he didn’t like to be that same selfish person he was before, but he couldn’t help what his heart was telling him now. 

“It’s only been a couple of months and it seems like you’re the same height as Jackson, now.”

Manó’s face softened. “He didn’t text me you guys were here.”

“That’s his mother’s fault. She said she wanted family time before the wedding festivities. I guess she knew the boys would be hanging out with other people all week instead of us. I don’t think we’ve taken a family vacation ever. Not since they were babies.”

“Well, do you think Mrs. Shelton would let them come to a campfire out on the beach tonight? My sister’s fiance is hosting one for the kids.” He put the word in quotes, rolling his eyes at his mother. 

Gwen was steady looking at Blake. It would have unnerved him but he knew he would be doing the same if given the chance. 

“I don’t see why not. We go to bed early anyways now that we’re properly old.” The two men smirked at his joke. “They’re down by the beach right now, in fact, if you guys want to head back together?” 

“Well, if you just got here we wouldn’t--” 

He cut Manó off gently, “I’ve been out here for hours now. Didn’t think I’d come across anyone this far out.”

“Why don’t we get ice cream together if your family wants to?” 

Gwen’s eyes remained on his, but her body didn’t tense. He was beginning to feel like she was so numb to everything regarding him that the shock of his presence would be the only thing to surprise or move her when it came to him. 

“If that’s okay with your mother.” Blake replied. 

The mother of three shrugged, surprising  _ him. _ But that was all she gave before her youngest waddled out of the pond and came to her side, burying his face in her side as he looked up shyly at Blake. “Are we going for ice cream?” 

Gwen finally tore her eyes away from him and ran a soft hand through her son’s wet hair. “We are. Come on and grab all your stuff.”

Blake stood off to the side as the family packed their belongings up. Gwen remained by her youngest while he walked with Manó. The two men sparked up a conversation about the Arizona Cardinals which he had come to know that Manó was a huge fan of over the years, and made their way back to the entrance of the trail. The younger man pointed out a great rock formation when they were silent for far too long and Blake stopped to admire the stone surrounded by the jungle’s green. 

It was a natural pyramid, tall and thin, grey and green from climbing vegetation. He hadn’t seen anything like it. He glanced over and saw that Gwen and her son were looking out too. 

“Dad said we should try to see what’s over there one day when we all have a day off.” Manó said to his mother. 

“It’s beautiful.” She murmured.

Blake watched her watch the rock. She stepped forward, eyeing a flock of birds circling near the top. Her foot caught and she thrust her arms forward to regain balance but it was too late, and too late for him to block her fall. He tried anyways and managed to keep her face from hitting the floor but not her ankle from twisting at a ghastly pace as she landed on her side. 

He let her go once he saw that she hadn’t hit anywhere else and grabbed his mangled hand. It hurt like a bitch from being tensed, unused and weak muscles being stretched awfully quick, nerves that were dead since the accident.

“Mom, are you okay?” Manó rushed to her side. 

She glared at her foot, a blooming purple spreading above the ankle. Then she looked at him, to his ragged flesh, “I’m sorry.” She said, repeating her words from earlier.

“It’s fine. Are you alright?” 

She nodded and hissed when her son tried to touch the bruised skin. 

Blake crouched near her, sitting on the damp earth near her foot and examined the growing injury along side Manó.

“It’s just twisted.” She said, holding out her hand to her youngest who looked frightened at the sight of his mother on the floor.

Blake carefully gripped her calf, and lifted her leg to rest her foot on his forearm. Lowering his face to see more clearly, he shook his head as he saw the blood rush to the site of pain. He placed his middle and forefinger on her uninjured skin and glided them down toward her ankle. She sat up and leaned toward him. 

“Blake, it’s fine.”

“Can you walk?” 

She nodded and him and Manó helped her up off the floor. They took a step forward and nearly thought she was in the clear before the injury almost had her buckling down to the floor, again. They caught her before she could, Blake’s left arm going around her stomach to keep her upright. 

“Damn it.” She cursed. 

Her youngest son giggled even though he was still clearly afraid for his mother. 

“I’ll call, Dad.” Manó said right away. 

“No, you’ll worry him and he’s trying to get the villas together for the hula-out.” 

“You can’t walk, Mom.” 

She sighed and hung her head down. 

Blake tightened his arm around her. “Get on my back.” 

Her eyes snapped to his, their faces close.

“What?” 

“I’ll carry you.”

“No, I’ll carry her.” Manó said. 

Blake gave him an unimpressed look. “Come on. I’m bigger. She won’t weigh a thing to me.”

The boy wanted to help his mother, he understood, but there was no need for him to hurt himself, too, along the way. 

“Blake--” 

He cut her off. “Just let me carry you. At least until we get to the beach and you can use one of those golf carts or something to get you back to the main entrance.”

She looked unsure, unsure as she once was when she first saw him standing there. And then she let go, perhaps all of it, or maybe some of it, and nodded minutely. 

Blake turned to face away from her slowly, shrugging off his backpack, still mindful of the weight she was putting on him to keep her balanced and standing upright, and then he crouched low to accommodate her small height. Manó helped her up, and Blake grabbed the back of her bare thighs as he hoisted her further into a much more comfortable position for him to carry her and for her to be carried. 

It was several minutes later when he realized what a terrible idea it was. It was around the time that she could no longer keep her head up and away from his own, when she allowed her neck to relax as she dropped her face to his shoulder. Her breath fanned the side of his jaw, and he clenched the muscles in his cheek tightly. Her legs were wrapped around him, her breasts pressed to the damp of his shirt. 

They made it to the beach and Blake carried her the rest of the way to the resort entrance to much protests from Gwen. He told her it would be faster than waiting for a cart and he was right. By the time they got there, Blake gently settled her back down on her feet and Manó helped her sit down in a chair by the deck. An employee came out with a wheelchair and they helped her into that, as well.

Blake stood there for a good second, watching as she was fussed over. Her youngest had asked if they were still getting ice cream and Blake had to chuckle. 

“Not now, S.J.” Manó told the boy. 

Gwen waved another employee away and looked up at him. “Thank you.” 

“No problem.”

They waited there in awkward silence before Blake gestured to the beach. “I should head back.” He looked to Manó. “I’ll tell the boys about the campfire.”

“Thanks, Blake.”

He nodded at the Howlett family and hastily made a retreat to the area on the beach where the jet skis were located. He doubted his family would still be out there but it was better than standing there with them and feeling like he wasn’t needed.

He was almost thankful for Gwen’s injury. It was like an icebreaker. It sounded stupid but if she hadn’t hurt herself, he didn’t think they’d be able to stand in the same space together without thinking of their shit past. This way, he was able to help her, she was able to tolerate him, and his heart didn’t need to feel so heavy. 

It didn’t matter that it would eventually become too much. It was a wedding, it was their daughter, it was memories twenty years ago that they thought were put behind them. If he even for a second was naive enough to hope that his heart was safe even for just one week, then he was a bigger fool than he previously thought.

And something told him he had been all along.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like part one of a whole chapter. I got excited cause shit is getting good again so I had to post it. second part coming soon. by the way, when Blake wears glasses, he looks like this but less dorky. lol. I like the snl skit glasses he wore but thought he wouldn't wear those in public.

“You got everything you need?”

Teddy nodded absently. Blake sighed and looked at his oldest.

“Dad, we’re all good. Stop worrying. You’re acting like Mom.”

“I just want to make sure you guys are set for the night. No adult supervision, anything could happen. And you both have to remember who you are and who I am. Don’t do anything stupid that can end up reflecting bad on the family. We might be out of the White House but the world is still watching and we have a character to uphold--”

“Jesus Christ, Dad. We get it.” Teddy complained, finally snapping his attention away from the beach. 

Blake held his tongue back. Any other night he would have had a few choice words for his youngest but Josie taught him a long time ago to pick and choose your battles when it came to the kids, especially if you were going to be parting from them for a long time. If something ever happened, either to him or the kids, he didn’t want to leave anything on a sour note. 

“Alright. Me and your mom will be upstairs if you need anything. We love you.” 

Teddy and Jackson gave their parents each a kiss on the cheek before walking out onto the terrace and over to the already lit campfire down by the far end of the shore. There were already several kids sitting around on wooden logs and a few taking a night swim out into the water. 

Josie wrapped her hand around his wrist and leaned into his side. “They’ll be fine. They’re good kids.”

“I’m worried about other people’s kids.” He looked down at her perfect face and tried to smile.

Josie leaned up for a kiss and he obliged. “Come on. That bed is calling my name.”

“I was thinking we could get a drink for a little bit and just see that everything is okay out there. An hour tops.”

His wife rubbed his chest and gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m tired, honey. And I think that last margarita at dinner upset my stomach.”

He sighed, really wanting to stay downstairs and watch the boys. It would just be for a little bit, to give him a piece of mind. It was one thing to leave them to their own devices during the day, and even the evening still held the last traces of sunlight. But they were out on a beach, most likely would travel somewhere else if he still remembered how young people thought, and they weren’t exactly on their own island. Blake knew Oahu backwards and forwards but his kids didn’t and bad things happened everywhere. 

“Why don’t you just go to the bar and I’ll head up for the night? I’m only going to bed anyways.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “You sure? I won’t be long.”

“Positive.” 

Blake kissed her one last time and let her go. He watched her wait by the elevators and once she was inside, Josie blew him a kiss. He didn’t catch it but he smiled at her like he was in love. He wasn’t sure if he was anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be. This was only temporary. Right?

The former president shook his head and began his walk to the resort bar. He passed the lobby desk and made eye contact with the receptionist who recognized him and gave him a small wave and a dazzling smile. He returned it dutifully and glanced at the woman she was helping, making Blake stop in his tracks. As if sensing him there, Gwen glanced back over her left shoulder, alabaster skin glowing too bright from the overhead chandelier above them. 

There was nothing on her face as she looked at him. But then she said something to the employee and stepped away, turning back around to regard him. He looked at her mouth as it opened but didn’t hear anything. He blinked. 

“What?” He asked in a perfectly even, normal tone. At least he hoped. 

“Thank you, again,” she offered, louder. 

“For what?” 

She almost rolled her eyes. “For earlier. Or did you forget about carrying me for miles to safety already?” 

“No...You’re welcome. Again.”

Her lips tried to stretch into a smile but they didn’t quite make it. “Well, I better head back. I only came to make sure the kids were alright with the bonfire.” She turned to leave and it took him a moment to register that she was really walking away from him. A familiar sting was creeping its way up the side of his neck until it reached his head and attacked his eyes. She was always leaving him. He was sure it was the universe’s way of punishing him for twenty years ago. Karma. 

“Wait.”

She slowed but didn’t stop. Figures. 

“Just…” He scrambled for words that no longer made sense of him to ask of her. “Have a drink with me?” He blurted out. 

She halted, then. “What?” She parried. 

“A drink? I...I was gonna watch the kids and make sure everything was alright before I headed up for bed.”

Gwen blinked as if not hearing his words. He saw the glint in her eyes as her lashes shuttered over the brown as if opening and closing a window. A window to her soul, surely. She looked at him. He waited. He felt her gaze drop lower, scraping over the length of his body. She saw the ruined hand. She blinked, then swallowed. He could hear the gears turning in her head, the questions forming in her mind. 

“Something tells me history is repeating itself.” She vocalized, quietly, a warning in the edge of her voice.

“We’ve learned from our mistakes.” He reminded her. The words tasted like acid in his mouth, bitterness on his tongue. They were better prepared for this sort of thing. Time only taught even though you hoped that it would heal, too.

“And yet many people still choose to make the same ones.” 

She was going to say no. She was going to refuse because she didn’t want anything to do with him. This was truly a first in his book.

He took a couple steps toward her, mindful of where they were and who could see them. “Some mistakes are worth repeating.”

She met his gaze for the second time. He couldn’t read her. He used to be able to know what she was thinking with just one look. What happened to them?

“Why?” She asked. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you want me to join you?”

The way Blake saw it, he had two options. He could dare her, call out her hesitation for being seen with a crippled, former president. Or he could plead with her, beg her for her company and count on her sympathy to keep him standing upright. 

He settled on another option. “Why not?”

She stared. “I can think of a hundred reasons why not.”

“That’s your argument? I can think of a hundred reasons why.” He countered. 

She said nothing, her lips a vale of red lipstick, her body a beautiful canvas. Her limbs relaxed some of the tension that she had been feeling. 

“Just give me an hour. We’ll get a quiet table away from eyes. One out on the veranda. You can even go home before then if you need to. Just come find me.”

Her reply was nearly imperceptible, so easily missed if you didn’t know where to look. He knew where to look. 

“I need to go home.” She said.  _ But I’ll come back.  _ It went unsaid.

He had maybe thirty minutes to change into a new shirt, freshen up underneath his arms and his face, and grab a table out on the patio. 

When she disappeared out the front doors, Blake sprinted up the stairs, dismissing the elevator ride. When he came to his room, Blake nearly forgot about Josie. 

_ Fuck.  _

He entered quietly, in case she was already knocked out. When she wasn’t feeling well it didn’t take long for his wife to succumb to sleep. When he walked further into the room, he saw her in bed, on her side, breath slow, eyes closed, the television light shining on her almost angelically. 

Blake walked to the closet and silently grabbed a new button down shirt. When he turned on the bathroom light, he saw it was a light green. He shrugged off the worn plaid and undershirt and washed with a rag over his neck and torso with some water and light soap. His face was next and Blake scrubbed off the grime from the day. He got dressed quickly and ran some water through his curls. He contemplated taking out his contacts but he didn’t want to wear his glasses meeting her. When they proved to be too blurry, Blake knew he wanted to see all of her without any problems and eventually took them out. He retrieved his glasses from the nightstand, stopping to look at Josie.

She really was perfect. Was he making another mistake? 

No. She was the one that decided to stay. She was the one who wanted to leave him in two years time. They weren’t what they once were and even though he knew Josie hadn’t taken a lover all these years despite having every right to, he was not going to be made to feel bad for having one drink with his ex. It’s not like anything was going to happen. As far as he knew, Gwen and Wyatt were still together. He had no intention of fucking up that relationship just because he fucked his own. 

Blake left the room just as quietly as he came in and ventured back downstairs, taking the elevator this time. He got a table relatively easy outside despite it being truly busy. He asked for one in the corner, so that the other patrons didn’t have to stare and marvel at the 47th president dining with them for the evening. It would still happen, but this way, Gwen wouldn’t have to feel odd sitting there with him if she couldn’t see them. He could brave the looks. He always had. 

His fingers had tapped a staccato rhythm for the past twenty minutes on the dining table, the crisp white cloth preventing the impact of his bones from accomplishing a satisfying thud on the hardwood. He lifted them and ran them gently through his hair as he peered into the side of a sparkling glass. He had ordered a vodka straight and her a melon spritzer. She wasn’t late. There really was no set time. But he had begun to think that she had changed her mind. 

Blake stared at the candle in the middle of the table to keep his thoughts from getting too depressing. Jasmine-scented wax wasn’t his favorite but it wasn’t terrible. The candle’s light flickered soft ochre in a dance meant to dispel the encroachment of the night. Even the lanterns planted about helped to prevent the waiters from tripping into the night. 

A throat cleared above him and Blake’s head snapped up. He rose immediately, stepping to pull out her chair for her. It allowed him to be close to her body. Allowed him to watch the candleglow flick over her face, allowed his trailing fingers to skim over her arm by accident as he passed. 

He sat back down and allowed is gaze to wander. Her hair was blonde again, he loved it like that. Truthfully, he’d love it anyway. It was shorter, skimming past her jawline. 

“You’re staring.” She said, looking down at the menu. 

“It just seems like all the women in my life are aging beautifully and I can’t keep up.”

“You think I’m still beautiful?”

“I think my description of you now would be completely inadequate because my medium is not words. Not anymore.” 

“You’ll always be a president, Blake.”

“I want to be more than that, now.” He couldn’t say what he wanted, not yet. Mostly because he didn’t quite know himself.

Her eyes finally lifted from the piece of plastic. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Insects clicked and buzzed, and a thick scent of night-blooming flora filled the air. 

“You had another kid.”

“His name is Silas but we call him S.J.”

“He’s a handsome boy. How old?”

“Eight.”

He hummed, looking off to the side at the hotel’s storm shutters, awaiting with their tight slats and iron wills on either side of each long window. “Eight?” 

She flinched and pushed herself against the creaking back of the wicker chair. He regretted it immediately. 

“Don’t.” She hissed.

“I’m sorry.”

Her fingers wrapped around the chair’s arm in a vice grip. 

“It just wouldn’t be the first time that I didn’t know I had a child running around in some parts of the world.”

There was a war in her eyes. She was going to dash away or throw her spritzer in his face. She looked like she was going to cry. She swallowed thickly, shook her head a little, and released the tension of her lips as if to speak. Gwen grasped for her drink and he watched the muscles of her throat ease the cool liquid down. She set the glass back on the table and folded her fingers together, released them, then repeated. She looked at him then. 

“You want to know the truth?” She asked, steadily. 

He didn't. He really didn’t. It wouldn’t change anything between them. It would only hurt him. It would only ever hurt her to do so. He didn’t want to know.

“I’m many things. But a father to your kids is not one of them.”

The tension did not leave her shoulders, but she leaned forward just enough that she could see him more clearly over the table. “You’re being a coward.”

He closed his eyes. She could feel him staring at him. He swallowed. Hadn’t he always been a coward? He put himself here. He brought it up. He hid from it just as easily.  _ I don’t want to know. _

“Blake--”

“I won’t be mad.”

A silence fell upon them. Gwen shifted. He opened his eyes to see her free her legs from the confines of the table. He scanned their length as she stretched them until she caught his line of sight and hid them back underneath the table. 

Madness. This was madness. She was his undoing and she knew it. 

“Is he mine?”  _ Is he my son, is he my undoing as well?  _ His tone was almost cruel even though he told her he wouldn’t be angry. Madness.  

She sat up straighter. She blinked. She swallowed. “Tell me it would make a difference if he was.” She requested with strange anger. Anger he wasn’t accustomed to. Anger he didn’t know how to avoid or dissuade.

“Gwen…” 

“He’s mine.” She said. It was all the answer he needed. He was hers. He was not hers and Wyatt’s. He was not hers and mine. He was just hers. He was my son. But he wasn’t mine. She was the mother of two of his children. He was a father of four.  _ No he was a father of two. Coward.   _

Blake let his eyes wander over her face, down her neck, across her shoulders and breasts. “What have we done?” 

He wasn’t aware he said it out loud. What  _ had  _ they done...to each other, to their families, to their happiness, and love and future? What had they done? Why were they still out to hurt each other? Why couldn’t he just pull her into his arms and die with the feeling of her body pressed against his? Because too much has happened. Because it wasn’t written in the stars. Because wars are never truly over. There’s resentment on both sides. Anger. Old wounds being scratched at by new days. Death. There were survivors and memories that would never let the present or future forget its past.   

Josie had forgiven him but had Gwen given him her forgiveness? Had he? There was too much to forgive and nothing at all to absolve. He destroyed her. And she would not ever apologize for how she chose to repair what he broke. He knew that now. 

“We can’t start over and we can’t forget and we won’t forgive each other, so what’s left?” He asked her.

“We marry our daughter off.” She said simply, at least giving him that.  _ Our daughter. _

“And then we go our separate ways.” He finished for her.

She looked out at the beach. From where they were sitting, they couldn’t see their children but they knew they were there. Laughing, happy, ignorant. 

“You asked me what we’ve done.” She started, looking back to him. “We brought two amazing kids into this world. We loved each other with something that only novels talk about and we hurt each other with a pain I’m sure hell would be jealous of. We’ve lived. And I don’t regret ever meeting you or giving you my heart. This is what was meant to be. And you’re wrong. I have forgiven you. I love you. I will always love you. But I can never be with you again. Not in that way. And I know you know how true that is.”

“Gwen…” He sighed, looking down at the table, unable to meet her eyes any longer. “Why does some part of me still think that you’re the one, then? That we’ll get past this. That you’ll be able to look at me and not see disappointment.”

“How do you see a future with a heart that’s been betrayed so many times?” She asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer. 

“Because time teaches. And time heals. I know it does.”

“We’ve had another eight years. What healed since then? My husband lost the ability to serve. You lost the use of a hand. We lost the use of our hearts. What do you see in me anymore?”

He remained absolutely still. He couldn’t absorb her claim, not there, with his vulnerability tripping into the night. He’d save it for later, when her words held no sting, just a bite. 

He cleared his throat as if the sand had gotten caught in it. “Why do you care how I see you or what I see in you? What does that have to do with us?”

“Because there’s only an us as far as there is an opinion of us. What you think of me matters. What I think of you matters.”

“I think you’re the love of my life. I think being together is confusing for me and yet it’s the only thing that makes sense. And that’s what we are. Something that makes sense and doesn’t and the unknowing is actually a declaration of love. Just be quiet, say nothing, and if you can’t say “yes,” don’t say “no,” say “later.” It’s why people say “maybe” when they mean “yes,” but hope you’ll think “no” when all they really mean is,  _ please,  _ just ask me again, and once more after that. I can do later. I can do maybe cause I know you mean yes you just want me to ask you again.”

“You haven’t asked me.”

“Marry me, Gwen. Marry me and forgive me and let me make you happy like I once did. Let me fix my mistakes.”

She transformed there in her seat, bit by bit as if she’d shed a skin like a malicious snake. 

“No.” She murmured. It was low, permanent in the air, potent. 

Why are you doing this, he wanted to mutter. Why are you bent on ruining me? 

She blinked. Her eyes were pools of bright stars, a thin film of water filled them as she tried to reign it in.

She rose from her seat. He did, too. 

“Marry me?” He asked, whispered across the table. Eyes would be on them soon if they didn’t sit back down or leave. Answer me. I’m insane. I know it. But marry me. Answer me.  _ Please.  _

There was a brow furrow, tightly pressed lips. A blush. “Goodnight.” 

It was all she said as she darted away as quickly as she could without physically running. And he would follow her. Of course, he would. Like a bride running away from the altar because of nervous jitters. He would go after her, not knowing what he would say, not even completely sure what had happened. But he would follow her. That “goodnight” was her “maybe.” 

_ Just ask me again, once more. I want to say yes but later.  _

But she hadn’t said later. She couldn’t say yes but she didn’t tell him later either. 

She had said no. He had said come find me.

Maybe it was his turn to find her.

  
  



	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this chapter is called Why Do They Leave by Ryan Adams. Give it a listen, it really sets the mood for that scene and it's such a great song.

He found her outside, standing on the veranda, arms crossed, face frowning. She didn’t leave. She didn’t leave and he had to take that for what it was. 

“I was an ass.” He said in a rush before she saw him and decided to change her mind. But she didn’t even flinch at the sound of his voice. He took that for what it was, as well. 

“You are an ass.” She said but there was no malice in her voice. 

He took one step closer. “I will probably always be an ass.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“...I’m not angry you proposed. I should be…” Her voice drifted like a breeze. “I’m angry that I don’t know how to move forward with you. Marriage is not the answer, obviously.”

“I just meant--”

“I know what you meant. You want to start over, start a life together. The problem is we’re already living a life. Separate lives that we can’t sweep under the rug. You do know that right? I mean, why else would you be here with your wife?”

“We’re not really together.”

“Don’t give me that crap.” She snapped then, turning around to face him. 

He put his hands up, not wanting to argue. “I just mean that were not what you think.”

“What else is there?”

“I told her I cheated.”

Gwen’s eyes widened. “You didn’t--”

“Tell her it was you? No. I don’t know who she thinks it is. But I told her nonetheless. And I expected her to leave once I was out of the office but she wanted to stay together for the kids, at least until Teddy was eighteen and off to college. Which made sense considering they were still young and a public divorce like that would be awful for a former first family.”

She parted those red lips, considering words, weighing phrases. 

“Gwen, we’re not really together. I don’t know what we are. I’m not gonna lie to you and say we haven’t been intimate or that things haven’t been good. They have. They are. But she hasn’t told me that the plan is off. She hasn’t come to me and said she wants to be with me even after these next two years are up. I just don’t know.”

“Do you want to be with her?”

He didn’t expect that and he was almost amused that Gwen had to even ask. 

“You know how much I care about her. That’s why I told her about my infidelity. And I was prepared to watch her walk away. I still am if that answers your question.”

She leaned against the railing, strangely at ease, never wavering her gaze from him. “But if she decides that she wants to be with you?”

“Gwen. It’s a shitty thing for me to say. I know it. But if I can’t have you, she’s the only other woman left for me.”

She turned to look out at the water. “Yeah, you’re right. That is a shitty thing for you to say.”

He nodded half-heartedly and did not speak as he looked upon her form. Eventually, she spoke again, quietly, as if she was about to tell a story.

“Wyatt told me that he was having an emotional affair with a woman while we were living in D.C.”

Blake’s eyebrows shot up at the confession but the rest of his body remained still, knowing how rare this moment was for them. 

She continued, “And I couldn’t help but laugh in his face. I don’t know I just thought it was all crazy. He got into that accident because he was on his way to see her. And I  _ knew  _ something wasn’t right there. I knew it. But then I told him about us.” She nodded at the question in his eyes. “I felt I had to tell him who it was. The funny thing is...he didn’t seem so surprised. And I guess that’s where we were. At a standstill. Understanding and not understanding each other at the same time. And then I told him I was pregnant. And we moved and we decided to try and make it work but we just couldn’t. So we decided to separate. And then we got a divorce. And now we’re the best of friends.” She turned to look at him, smiling, as if to say it was true but not quite. Maybe. 

“He even has a girlfriend now. I’ve met her a couple of times. She seems like a nice girl. And things are...I’m in a good place. I have been for awhile. The kids are fine, obviously.”

“Does he know?” He knew that she’d know what he meant. 

“He does. About both of them. It hasn’t changed what he feels. He raised them. All of them.”

He nodded, not seeing any fault in the statement. 

“So, that’s why I’m at an impasse here. Because I know what I want and I’m able to go after it because I’ve handled what I need to. You’re still Blake from eight years ago. I don’t think you know how to be by yourself. Truly. We’re at two different places in our lives, right now. You see that, right?”

He did. He saw now how ridiculous she must’ve found him. He felt governed only by impulse in this place, so close to their past and so close to her. His heart still felt empty after years without her. His soul was twitching against his chest, trying and failing to be with her after everything that had occurred. He’d do or say anything to reverse the last twenty years. But she didn’t need that. Most of all, she didn’t want it. He had to be better. He had to show her that he’d do anything for the next twenty years to truly make his amends--to make it right--all of it. 

“You still like me, don’t you?” He asked. 

Gwen smiled slightly. “Yes, Blake. I still like you.”

“Then there’s still hope.” She looked unsure. He continued, “There’s still hope if I prove myself to you. I can do that. I was the fucking president of the United States. I can be a better man for the woman I love.”

The breeze lifted soft blonde strands into her face which Gwen brushed away with a delicate hand. “We have a long way to go.”

“I know that.”

“It’s not gonna be easy. You’re still not my priority. The kids come first.”

“Our kids.”

“Blake.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. And I won’t get in the way of that.”

She scoffed. “You will. And that’s okay.” Gwen quickly added. “They find a way to gravitate toward you, anyways. Even the ones you didn’t father.”

He chuckled. “But I promise I won’t seek them out. I owe you that at least.”

“Please, don’t. Over the years, I’m not sure my decision to keep them from you was necessarily the right thing.”

He was surprised to hear her admit it. 

“I’m not saying my choices didn’t have any justification. You abandoned us the first time around.”

“I didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“But you knew you should have gotten on that plane to find out.” He shut his mouth and let her continue. “And last time...everything was falling down around us. To have you claim a child that wasn’t the product of your marriage would have been cruel to make you do.”

“I would have done it.”

“Your entire presidency would have been made a joke. You worked too hard in that office--you’ve done too many great things for this country to let it all come crashing down in a blazing fire started by me.”

“We slept together knowing it was both of our decisions. It was my fault that we didn’t use protection.”

“We can’t place blame now. That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just meant that I could have told you about Silas when he was four or any other age after that.”

He cocked his head to the side, realizing they were making more progress in these two hours than they’d ever had in the past twenty when it came to their tumultuous relationship. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because as the years passed, it just became easier. I became comfortable with another man raising your kids. And that’s tragic and cowardly of myself, I know that now. It just became apparent that I was never going to see you again. And then Lani went and got herself engaged.”

Blake looked off to the beach where they could now see the large bonfire just off the shoreline. They couldn’t make out any faces but their kids were there. They knew that much. “Her fiance...he a good guy?”

“He seems like it. They met at college and he’s been around for a good three years, now.”

It was crazy how the conversation flowed between them, now. How it changed and twisted and grew in just a matter of minutes. This was what he had wanted with Gwen all along.

“Do you wanna try this drinking thing again?” Blake asked, abruptly.

Gwen tilted her head to the side. “Why not?”

“I can think of a hundred reasons why not.” He smirked.

They called to a waiter that was headed back inside and asked him for an ocean view table. They sat at the very last one that was off the edge of the sand line. They ordered two ciders and drank silently for a couple of minutes, comfortable with the air, their new found truce, and the sight of their children happy but safe. 

He watched Gwen’s face as she glanced around the beach. Fondness, amusement, benevolence, sharp pain, all coating her beautiful features. He could look at her forever and never tire. That sharp pain was the most striking thing he’d seen since he left D.C. And even though she tried to conceal it, he saw it nonetheless. The third time he caught it, he could not stop himself from asking. “What’s he like?”

Gwen took another sip from her glass before answering. “He looks like you. The hair, the eyes, the nose. He’s all you in the face and only a little me. But sometimes he looks like Wyatt and I just don’t know how the two can occur at the same time.”

“He raised the boy. It’s natural.”

Gwen hummed. “He’s sweet. And funny and so smart. He’s never sad. He brightens even the lowest of days. He’s a little blessing.”

Blake smiled. “Thank you.”  _ For telling me. For having him. For letting me imagine even just for a second that he’s mine in all the ways that matter. _

“I know there are chapters of my life that belong to other people but the whole book is about you it feels like. No matter where I start or end, it’s always you there.” Gwen said, completely out of the blue. The thought must have been weighing heavy on her mind. 

“And I think about it all the time.” She continued. “I was here. There was you. Then a child. Then another. You loved me. Then we died.” That was all she said in response, and though bereft of all detail, it was quite enough.

“I’m sorry,” he said, cringing at his own inadequacy.

“Sorry never changes anything. I’ve come to find.”

“I think it allows room for change. Without it, no one would ever start the conversation. There’d be only one well worn path and it would only lead to retaliation.”

She looked at his hand then, with it’s raw looking flesh and ruddy skin. Then she looked to his face but Blake leaned closer to the ocean because it was safer than seeing that look of pity. 

“I was scared you were going to die.” She voiced. “I watched it live. I told myself I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to see your face or the two of you together. But it was your birthday. All those people had come together to celebrate your life and Lani turned it on because she wanted to see the dress I made on Josie.” She took a shaky breath. “And you looked so handsome. The camera went right to you as you exited the car and my heart started hurting and then it stopped a second later.”

“Gwen--”

“Do you know how hard it is to watch someone you love take a bullet? Several bullets. It was like they wouldn’t stop and when you fell to the ground--”

He took her hand suddenly, squeezing fingers that were much thinner than his, much softer. “I’m sorry.”

“The worst thing was having to wait with the rest of the country for any real information about your injuries. I felt like I was just one of the three hundred million people and not the mother of your kids. In that moment I really felt useless.”

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say.

“They said one hit the chest and the other the hand?” Gwen finally asked what she had been wanting to for four years now. 

“The first bullet hit my chest and I put my hand up to reach at it,” he gestured to the area. “A second bullet hit and then I guess a third just grazed my neck as I was falling down.”

She shook her head. “Do you remember?”

He nodded. “Some of it. It felt like fire. Like someone had actually lit a fire inside my chest. The hand just went numb. The doctor said it was because of all the bone fractures, bullet fragments are nasty little fuckers, apparently. They did more damage than the bullets themselves.”

“What else do you remember?”

“Being caught by my agents before I could actually hit concrete. I don’t even remember seeing if Josie was alright. I blacked out and then I woke up in the hospital two days later. A ruined hand, a bullet lodged into my chest, and bandages all around me. I thought I had died.”

“I thought you were going to. I prayed so hard.”

“God heard you.”

“I guess he did. Although, I think it was the whole country that he heard. Maybe even the world. I wonder what that feels like. The world keeping you in their hearts and minds.”

“You may not be in the people’s hearts but your name is definitely in their heads. You styled the First Lady for over a year. And well, I might add. The fashion police or whatever the hell those people are haven’t forgotten.” Gwen laughed. “I remember when she was picking out dresses for that night. She had a ton to choose from that her new stylist had made and then there was the one that you left. She hadn’t worn it yet and I thought of you and where you might be. I told her she should wear it and then the next day they announced the dressmaker.”

“Lani saw. She was so excited.” 

The waiter came back around, asking if they wanted refills or something else. Gwen ordered some coffee for them and after the man left to fetch the hot brew, she realized they were still holding hands. And instead of pulling away like he thought she might, she kept her hand firmly in his. He looked everywhere at his surroundings as they were bathed in a quiet moment. 

“Wyatt’s family owns this place?” He asked, knowing the answer already. 

Gwen nodded. “His uncle did. When Wyatt was honorably discharged, David let him come and work for the resort. He showed him how things were run and eventually retired. Wyatt does everything now and I help him with whatever I can. The kids have been a big help too when they’re home.”

“Seems like he landed on his feet again just fine.”

“Yeah.” She looked over at him. “Looks like we all did.”

Two clay drinking pots were set down in front of them. The waiter poured small amounts of rich, dark coffee, thick with sugar and a hint of something spicy in the coffee beans. Gwen thanked the man and Blake paid for the drinks, tipping him extra. 

“You want to take a walk along the beach?” Gwen asked, suddenly becoming the picture of surprises. 

“What about our coffee?”

“We can take it with us.” She stood. “Come on.”

He found himself following her every movement until she had him lying down in the dark sand, close enough to the water that he could feel the spritz of warm ocean but not so close as to become consumed by the rolling tide. They were such a far distance from the fire that he felt safe enough to be there with her without being found out. 

The moon was silver, he told her as much. It was a glowing silver sphere speckled with golden scars older than humanity. The water reflected the metallic sky, she told him as much. It was as if drops of molten metal fell one by one from up above and formed a big pool.

Gwen turned onto her side and popped her head onto her hand. Blake was on his back. He looked up at her, seeing a question forming in her mind. 

Finally, after finishing the last of her coffee and his, “What do you think your greatest downfall is?”

He blinked and slowly drew his attention back to the dark sky. “Love.”

Gwen inched closer. “How so?”

“...Took me several years to realize it but love isn’t brains. Everyone says how it's a game and you have to learn how to play. You have to be smart about it. But that’s not it. Love is blood. Blood that’s screaming inside of your veins to work its will. It’s my downfall. For lack of better phrasing, I’m love’s bitch. I just pray I’ll always be man enough to admit that. And overcome it.”

“I was wrong.”

His eyes returned to Gwen’s. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not still the Blake from eight years ago. You might still be living that life but you’re not that same person.”

It was a compliment. He could see that. His face warmed. “What’s your greatest downfall?”

“Thinking I can do everything by myself when I don’t need to. I could have saved myself a lot of stress if I just let people help me. If I just let people in.”

“It’s not always that easy.”

“You’re defending me now?”

“I’m agreeing with you. Nobody likes to depend on anybody.”

She hummed, looking down the path of the beach where there was a large tiki hut that served as a sandbar. There was music playing. It was soft, could barely be heard from where they were. Blake looked at Gwen’s longing face. The last time they danced was at the White House. She hated him, then. 

“You wanna dance?” He asked her, quietly. 

Gwen’s eyes remained on the music. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He smirked. “You want me to ask you, again.” 

“What you said earlier holds some truth.” She admitted. 

He rose abruptly and dusted himself off despite the futility. He held his hand out. She looked from it to his blue eyes and took it, gently. She rose easily and didn’t bother shaking the sand away.

“Dance with me?” He asked, knowing this time, she would say yes. 

The hand in the crook of his elbow grounded him as he led them over to the music. He didn’t waste time with formalities or politeness, not even insecurities could keep him from pulling her closer by the arm. His ruined hand touched the back of her spine and he longed to be able to really  _ feel  _ the nerves and indentations there. His left grasped her wrist lightly and Gwen went to him willingly, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

They swayed slightly, not really dancing but feeling like they were floating across the sand, nonetheless. When he was sure she was secure in his arms, Blake allowed himself to listen to the music. It was a soulful tune, the artist’s voice suited for rock, his lyrics suited for pain. 

_ Simple cards and things. Rose-colored sunsets, no flowers for me. _

Blake inhaled the soft scent of Gwen’s shampoo, lavender and honeydew. 

_ Lover, why do you leave? On the day I want you for me? Say it ain’t so, that he will take you tomorrow and I will sit here today the worst. _

The lyrics reminded him of when she left D.C. He knew in his heart that he was no reason to leave a life behind. But still, to want her, to  _ need  _ her, and then to watch her leave him on that very same day, was a pain he had never felt so distinctly in his life. All for him to possess the knowledge that Wyatt would have her until the end of time. He was ashamed to admit that it proved not to be the case. 

The song drew to a close with the last lyrics reminding him of how Gwen must have felt that day he didn’t show up on the tarmac in California.

_ Lover, why do you leave? On the day I want you to be the one. _

It made sense the more he spent time with her. She wanted him so badly, so desperately to be the one. And he left. And now three kids later, maybe he was proving to have some potential. 

Gwen pulled away when the last notes of the harmonica sounded through the loudspeakers. Her face was softened by the moonlight, her hair by the light reflecting off the water. “I need another drink.” She announced. 

Blake almost chuckled. “How about you order a water?”

She seemed almost amused by the prospect. “Do you want anything?”

“A water.” He said, grinning. Blake took out his credit card and handed it over to her. Gwen took it begrudgingly but didn’t argue with him about paying.

He plopped down in the sand again, not minding the texture or mess, and not wanting to move anywhere else. Gwen came back with a small glass of water for him and a glass of something pink for her. It looked like some sort of fruit martini, with an olive to top it off and a small napkin. She held a tiny pencil in her pinky. He pondered what it was for and that’s when she produced the receipt. He forgot about his signature and took the water gratefully. He signed his name somewhat coherently onto the paper but kept the pencil. Ever since his accident, he’s had to relearn how to write with his non-dominant hand.  

Gwen settled into the sand with him, reclined backwards on her elbows propping her up. Blake stole the little napkin from her without Gwen noticing and began to draw on it. It was a common exercise his physical therapist had him try. Basic functions like writing a straight line versus a curve were mastered by just doing some simple sketching. Over the years, he got rather good at it. 

Blake eased the soft lead pencil along the smooth texture of the napkin, trying so hard to mimic the curve of her ankle, of all places, that seemed like the easiest to draw. When it proved to be far too difficult, he sighed and tossed the pencil into the sand. It landed near her arm, and she looked over at him.

“Were you drawing me?” She asked. 

“I was drawing your ankle. But your ankle proves to be stubborn like the woman it’s attached to.”

“Imagine that.”

He shrugged and looked off toward the darkening sea. The pencil landed in his lap not a second later. He glared at her. 

“It’s an ankle.” She chided him. 

“I only have the left hand.”

“Draw a left ankle then.” She challenged. 

“I’ll stick with the right. Starting over would be too hard.”

Gwen turned on her side, using her right arm to support her head, again. Blake’s eyes went to the curve of her hip as it became more pronounced and the indentation of her waist created a resting place just the size of his palm. 

He swallowed, so weary of fighting the pull of her body, and so frightened of its loss if she decided not to have him for the rest of eternity. If she remained that way, looking at him like that, he didn’t think he could take it slow. He didn’t think he could wait for her to love him unconditionally, again. He would rise to his knees and crawl over her. He would press his weight against her, and lower his mouth to her. Anywhere, in any spot. It did not matter to him.

“Do you want me to stand up?” She asked, and did so when he did not give her a verbal response. 

He craned his neck to meet her gaze. “The light isn’t the greatest.”

Gwen looked toward the hut, more specifically at the lights shining around it. It casted a shadow there way but if she moved just a little to the left, her right ankle would be in it’s direct light. 

“Where do you want me, then?” She asked, almost exasperated. 

“Everywhere. Anywhere.” 

Gwen gave him a look. He quickly backtracked. “By my knee. There.” He told her, pointing to the spot in the sand. She moved and when Gwen was settled, Blake looked to her dress. 

“Pull the skirt up.”

“No.”

He glanced up, knowing his eyes had gone dark. “Just a little.”

She bunched the fabric between her fingers and slowly pulled it higher. His eyes didn’t know where to look. So much was exposed at one time, her half-buried toes, her curved arch, sturdy heel, the outward sweep of her calf muscle. It was just a taste. A taste to hold him over until he could have her in her entirety. 

“Draw, Blake.”

He did. A slight drag over napkin and then he was back to staring at skin that was unfamiliar to him and yet the most homely thing he’d ever known. “On my leg.” He pointed to the warm flesh of his thigh, gesturing about the position, grumbling over the lighting. 

Gwen eased her toes from the sand and rested her foot on his thigh. He drew a line to appease her. And then another one. And then he had the base of her leg outlined, hoping to bleed it into the ankle lines he had made when he first started. “Move a little to the left.”

She tried but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t know what possessed him to place the pencil behind his ear or wrap his hand around her calf to move her just so. His hand felt like it was glued to her skin. His roughened fingertips gliding along the smoothness of her flesh, his thumb circling that tender place behind her knee. 

“Blake.” 

He ripped his hand away as if it had been burned. His head inclined down, so that all he saw was sand and nothing of her body to draw him back into that dream-like state. He cleared his throat, rising from the sand until he was taller than her. Their natural way of being. 

Blake crinkled the napkin in one hand and stuffed the drawing into his shirt pocket. “I should go.”

Gwen was silent. 

He swallowed thickly and shook his head, stepping closer to her, not enough for them to touch but enough that she could feel his body heat. “Thank you for tonight.”

She nodded. “Are you going because--”

“I’ll see you at the beach party tomorrow, right?”

Another nod. Her eyes roamed over him uneasily. “Blake, I--this was--”

“Good. This was really good. You’re really good for me.”

Even in the dark, he could see her blush. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

He was the one to nod this time. He was the one to walk away. 

He did not turn back around to see if she was still there. And Blake began to wonder if he would ever stop keeping count of their leaves of one another. The thought plagued him. He had to know that it wasn’t about  _ if _ anymores with it came to them.

Only  _ when _ .


End file.
